The First Time
by Morganeth Taren'drel
Summary: A series of drabbles looking into the Winchesters young lives, and what they have to learn to do on their own.
1. Alone

**The First Time**

**AN**: I'm working on a series of short little glimpses into the Winchesters young lives.

Dean - 4 Sammy - 4 months

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Alone  
**

He was a lone in the dark, when the baby began to cry. John looked up from his empty hands unsure if he could bring himself to move. But as little Sammy continued to cry, John forced himself to his feet and crossed the tiny motel room.

Looking down into the old crib John starred blankly at his youngest son. He felt paralyzed, how could he possibly handle this? From the moment of his birth Sammy had clearly been connected to Mary, only she ever seemed able to make him happy.

Unable to listen to the wails John reached down and gathered Sammy into his arms. It felt all wrong as he juggled his son. John couldn't find the words, the emotion, or connection that he needed to comfort Sammy.

"Daddy?" a little voice asked from behind, and John turned to see Dean sitting up in his bed rubbing sleepily at his eyes. "Sammy okay?"

John took a seat next to his eldest, and Dean immediately moved to rest his little hand on Sammy's head, as he gently shushed him. "He'll be okay," John assured voice hollow, he wasn't so sure himself

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	2. Walking

**The First Time**

**AN**: I have no idea how many chapters this is going to get, apparently I'm told the options are limitless, so we'll all have to wait and see. I hope you enjoy.

Dean - 5 Sammy - 8 months

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Walking**

Dean sat on the edge of the worn couch his battered toy soldiers spread out on the coffee table preparing for war. The TV was on in the background the Flintstones amusing Sammy who giggled happily whether they were being funny or not. Dad was in the kitchen his attention completely focused on several books. He'd been like that for hours, and every attempt Dean had made to get his attention hadn't worked.

"Dee, Dee!" Sammy called happily.

Looking up Dean watched as his baby brother turned towards him. He didn't know what had caught Sammy's attention, but he'd scooted himself away from the TV, and was now moving to his hands and knees. Sammy had been crawling for a while now, as he tired to find his way into any place he wasn't allowed to go. With daddy busy all the time that left Dean to keep an eye on his brother.

It never bothered him. "What is it Sammy?" he asked, and watched in amazement as Sammy worked to get his feet under him before pushing himself up onto wobbly legs.

Sammy's smile was enormous as he took his first unsteady step towards his older brother. "Dee!" he sang happily little arms held out to either side of him for balance.

"Look at you!" Dean cheered moving around the table so he was in Sammy's path, "You're walking!"

As Sammy continued to make his slow way to Dean's outstretched arms, Dean looked up to see his dad standing in the doorway, proud smile on his face. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his dad smile.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	3. Sickness

**The First Time**

**AN**: I hope you enjoy this next installment.

Dean - 6 Sammy - 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Sickness**

John lowered himself down on the edge of Dean's bed with a sigh. His son shifted restlessly under his covers, pushing them down his chest. Dean's face was flushed with fever, he'd come home from school with the bug that was going around, and had been absolutely miserable since. Reaching out his right hand John rested it on his son's forehead, his fever was slowly going down, but a cough was settling into Dean's chest.

"Mom…" Dean muttered, rolling onto his side before he started coughing.

It wasn't the first time Dean had called for Mary. After the fire it had been nightmares just about every night, sending him crying out for her. John had been at a loss for how to comfort his son; the wounds were still too fresh and deep in himself.

"Daddy?" a little voice asked, and John looked down to see his youngest standing next to him hands on his thigh.

"What is it Sammy?" he asked ruffling his son's wavy mess of hair. So far Sammy wasn't showing any signs of catching whatever Dean had.

Sam looked worriedly at his older brother before he turned imploringly to his dad, "Dean needs mummy?" he asked as Dean mumbled for Mary again.

"He'll be okay Sammy," John assured.

"Where is she?" his son asked innocently.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	4. Nightmare

**The First Time**

**AN**: not so sure what I think about this one, something I wrote as it came to me, and I hope I got the point I wanted to make across. I hope you enjoy

Dean - 7 Sammy - 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Nightmare**

Dean woke suddenly hazel eyes darting around the shabby motel room, unsure what woke him. A quick glance at the other double bed, told Dean his father hadn't returned yet. Dean didn't fully understand what it was that kept John out some nights, he knew it wasn't like the jobs his friends' parents had.

A shiver ran down Dean's spine, he hated being alone but could never let it show, not to his dad or Sammy who was asleep beside him, curled tightly on his side. He'd been asked to look after his brother, and it was a job Dean took very seriously. He squashed the feeling that rose, trying to tell him that he needed to be looked after too. Sammy had to come first.

Getting out of bed Dean padded over to the door, checking to make sure the line of salt was untouched just before the threshold. He didn't understand why his father always laid out the salt along each window and then the doors. But he took his dad's warnings very seriously, they weren't under any circumstances to break the lines, it would keep them safe.

Dean was just looking at the salt line on the windowsill, when he heard Sammy gasp in his sleep. Turning back to the bed Dean watched as his little brother shook under the covers, face contorted in fear as he began to silently cry. "Sammy?" Dean called softly as he climbed back onto the bed.

Sam began to struggle violently against an unseen force, his breathing becoming more labored the harder he fought. "Sammy! Wake up!" Dean said urgently grabbing his brother's arms.

"No!" Sam shouted jumping away from Dean as his eyes flew open, wide with fright.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean assured, ducking his head so he could see his brother's face.

Sam launched himself at Dean shoulders shaking as he cried, whether it was fear or relief Dean couldn't tell; he hugged Sam close. "You're alright," he whispered, "Nothing's going to hurt you, not while I'm here."

Dean wanted to believe, that he could protect his little brother from anything, but he wasn't so sure he could save himself at the same time.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	5. Guns

**The First Time**

**AN**: my friend was right, there really are so many of these 'Firsts' so far I've been going in something of a chronological order, but I'm not so sure it'll remain that way as other ideas pop into my head. I hope you enjoy

Also something I've noticed…these 'drabbles' are slowly getting longer and longer, oh well what can you do? It's just the way I write.

Dean - 8 Sammy - 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Guns**

Dean looked down the long opened field it was early morning on a Saturday, and dad had promised to teach Dean something new. That alone was exciting news; dad knew so many cool things. Not like the other kids at school, but he wasn't allowed to talk about it with them. Dean had always loved doing things with his dad.

He could remember long evenings playing catch with his dad in the front yard. They came to him in flashes, mostly at night, a brief moment of peace before the fire returned. That was a time in his life Dean wasn't eager to remember despite the fact that he didn't want to forget him mum. They didn't play catch anymore, or at least their games didn't have the same light fun to them. There was something decidedly more important to these 'games' that Dean couldn't fully understand just yet.

John stood partially behind Dean bent so his arms were supporting his Dean's. In his small hands Dean held a handgun; dad had called it a Glock 9 mil. Dean hadn't been able to take his eyes off the weapon, when John first produced it from a case. He'd seen guns on TV, watched the 'good guys' take down the 'bad guys' and they all made it look so cool. Now he was going to get his turn; Dean could barely contain his excitement.

"Easy Dean," John warned speaking in a low voice directly into Dean's ear. Before he'd even been allowed to touch the gun, there had been a list of rules he'd had to learn none of them allowed for any fun. It wasn't a toy, John had told him firmly.

But now, twenty feet away there stood an empty can and Dean was trying to line up his sights like his dad had showed him. Every breath he took knocked him off and he was beginning to feel the frustration.

"Take deep breath Ace," John instructed, "Now let it go," Dean did as he was told one eye closed has he put the can in his sights. "Squeeze the trigger," John encouraged.

The shot was deafening and it caused Dean to jump, he felt the shock of the gun through his body, but John helped control the recoil through his arms. It wasn't at all like what he saw on TV, it left him breathless and trembling with the rush of adrenalin.

"Good job," he dad praised, and Dean looked up to see the can lying on its side, one round whole through it.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	6. Failure

**The First Time**

**AN**: This idea stuck me, while I was falling asleep the other day. The show doesn't give specific ages for the boys when Sammy was attacked by the shtriga, so I'm going with what I guess them to be Dean – 9, Sammy – 5. Which also fits nicely with the ages in the other story I've done so far, they're a year older in each one. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Failure**

Dean sat alone in the dark, head down arms wrapped tightly around his knees; Pastor Jim's house was quiet giving Dean far too much time to think and remember. All he could see was that disappointed look in his father's eyes as he walked out the door heading back to Fort Douglas. It made him want to pull in on himself, so he had separated himself hiding away in a seldom used room.

It didn't matter that Sammy was alright, he hadn't listened and he'd nearly lost his brother for it. He couldn't forgive himself so why should his dad?

Fighting back tears as he played the moment over again in his head, Dean heard the door open. He ducked his head further when the light spilled over him from the hall, "Dean?" a voice called softly from the hall, it was Pastor Jim's.

He didn't respond but turned away, in the hopes the older man would take the hint and leave him in the darkness.

It wasn't his luck, Dean heard Jim step into the room. "Are you hungry son?" Jim quietly asked taking a seat near Dean in and old arm chair.

Dean shook his head, despite the hollow feeling in his gut, he'd missed breakfast and lunch, but it was no less than he deserved in his mind.

There was a moment of silence, and Dean thought Jim might choose to leave, "Samuel's wants to know where you are."

"Don't tell him!" Dean said urgently looking up at the old pastor.

Jim studied Dean pale eyes shining with the light, "You'd punish your brother just to punish yourself?" he asked tone curious but sad.

"It's my fault!" he choked out, head dropping again, he wasn't talking to his father, but he could see feel the look John had given him.

"Samuel doesn't blame you," Jim pointed out gently a hand coming to rest on Dean's trembling shoulder.

"D..dad does…"

"Your father is a strict man," Jim muttered under his breath, "He was scared, he needs to know you can listen to him."

Dean tightened his grip on his legs and bit down on his lip in a desperate attempt to stop himself from crying.

"Nothing is so bad it can't be forgiven," the pastor pointed out squeezing Dean's shoulder.

He broke down at the contact, shoulders shaking with his silently sobs, "I want it…to be…like it was…" he managed to choke out, shame washing over him in strong waves. He was stronger than this, he didn't cry, but none of that seemed to matter after the way dad had looked at him.

Pastor Jim never released Dean's shoulder, nor did he attempt to pull the nine year-old into a hug. "We can't change the past," he said softly, "But we can vow to never let it happen again…"

Dean drew in a shaking breath, and looked up at the kind old man. It was a suggestion he hadn't really given himself a chance to consider. Dean never wanted his dad to look at him that way again; he wanted to prove to his father that he could be trusted, that he could protect Sammy.

Jim smiled, "Your father loves you," he assured resting his hand on the back of Dean's head.

"Dean?" a small voice called from the hall, just before sock feet came racing into the room. "I found you!" Sammy cheered wrapping his arms around his big brother.

It didn't matter that they hadn't been playing hide-n-seek Sammy had found him, and Dean felt a little more ready to face his father again.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	7. School

**The First Time**

**AN**: I think I meant to do this one sooner, but kept forgetting when I'd start the next story, so this will be the first story that goes back in time a year since I believe Sammy would have started school when he was four. I hope you enjoy.

Dean - 8 Sammy - 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**School**

"Are you ready?" dad asked as he opened the car door for Sam.

Dean laughed as he got out of the front seat, "Do you really have to ask?"

Sammy smiled brightly clutching his lunchbox tightly in his hand as he climbed out taking his dad's hand.

"It's all he's talked about for the past two weeks," Dean said with a sigh, ruffling Sam's mop of curly hair.

"Hey!" Sam squawked ducking out from under his brother's hand.

"C'mon dude I'll take you to your class," John said getting Sam moving again towards the school.

Looking up at the building Sam hadn't expected it to be so huge, but he didn't feel intimidated, all he was feeling was the rush of excitement. He almost wanted to run inside the faster he could see what this was all about the better. Dean had spent a lot of time with him, teaching him his letters, and even how to read a little. But Sam always wanted to learn more, now he could.

It didn't matter that Dean spoke of school like some sort of punishment; nothing could diminish the thrill Sammy felt about finally starting.

They reached his classroom and Dean rested a hand on his shoulder, "I'll see you at recess."

Sam nodded distractedly wide brown eyes darting around the classroom as he tried to see everything at once. There were so many bright colors, and the letters of the alphabet were posted on the walls with pictures all around them. There were cubbies along the wall, and his sharp eyes caught site of his name. "Daddy look!" he said happily trying to rush over, with John still holding his hand.

"What's your name?" a cheerful woman asked coming up to them before bending slightly so she was looking at Sam.

"Samuel Winchester!" he said proudly pointing at his name, "It's my first day!"

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	8. Detention

**The First Time**

**AN**: No question this one had to be written, it was just a matter of deciding what the reason behind Dean's first time would be. And that didn't take long to decide either. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dean - 8 Sammy - 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Detention**

"What's gotten into you Dean?" his teacher asked with exasperation.

Feeling it was a stupid question Dean remained silent, he'd already explained the situation, if it was too hard for the principle to grasp that wasn't his problem.

"Dean we want to hear both sides of the story," the principle said, and it sounded like he'd said it a thousand times.

"I told you, he was harassing Sammy," Dean bit out, still seething from the sight of it.

He'd been nervous all day, wondering how Sam was doing with his first day. Paying attention in class had been a real challenge as he counted down the minutes till recess where he could find his brother and make sure he was okay. When it had finally arrived Dean had rushed out the first set of doors he could and made for the other side of the yard, where he knew Sam's class would exit.

When he got there, the first thing Dean had seen was Sammy standing among a group of slightly older boys, one of them trying to pull his lunchbox away. Why he'd brought it out with him Dean didn't know, or care really. He saw red immediately and rushed over slugging the kid without a second thought. No one messed with his brother!

The principle sighed folding his hands on the desk, "If someone's bothering you, you know you're supposed to get one of the teachers. That's what they're out there for."

"I have to protect Sammy!" Dean replied adamantly, he'd made that promise to his father.

"You're brother's fine Dean," Mrs. Taylor told him firmly, "But you gave Jack Bryn a black eye."

"Well what's he doing picking on little kids anyways?!" he demanded back, "It's not the first time either!" Dean knew he wasn't helping his situation, but he was still fighting back the anger he felt on his brother's behalf.

"Which is why you're both getting detention," the principle replied somehow managing to maintain his calm. "And I'll be calling your parents."

Dean moved to the edge of his chair, "Who's going to watch out for Sammy?!"

"A teacher Dean," Mrs. Taylor said placing a restraining hand on his shoulder, "You're brother will be fine."

He slumped back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. It was going to feel like forever before he could see Sammy again.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	9. Broken

**The First Time**

**AN**: I've written three of these chapters in one day! That's what I like about this 'story' the ideas keep coming, and the chapters don't take long to do. Of course I'm posting them on separate days, I don't want people to get sick of the updates…not sure if that can happen but I'm not in a rush to find out. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Dean - 10 Sammy - 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Broken**

Dean gasped in pain as he moved to get back to his feet; he'd been thrown by a vengeful spirit his dad was attempting to dispel. His forearm throbbed in time with his heart, and he held the limb close to his chest to keep from moving it. Dean forced himself to focus on the hunt, it wasn't over yet and he dad still needed him. It was a monumental effort but Dean managed to push the pain aside.

Before he could offer his dad any aid, the spirit reformed rushing John with a shriek of rage, and was swallowed by a blinding flash of light. A torrent of wind rushed through the old house nearly knocking Dean from his feet again.

John rounded on Dean, "Keep your eyes open Ace!" he barked gruffly, "You loose focus like that, it'll get you killed."

"Yes sir," Dean replied dropping his head a degree. He was becoming used to this side of his dad, the drill sergeant, in fact with each passing year Dean was finding it harder to remember what his dad had been like before the fire.

"What's the matter with your arm?" John asked stopping what he was doing to point at Dean's right arm.

He shrugged like it wasn't important; he wanted to be strong for his dad. "I think I might have twisted it when I fell," he replied dropping his arm back down at his side, though that only made the throbbing stronger.

"Let me see it," John bade, and the sharpness had left his voice as he reached out for Dean's arm.

Dean winced when his dad's hand began to push back his coat sleeve exposing his red swollen arm. "Ahhh!" he gasped when John began to probe the arm, thumb and fore finger squeezing at even intervals until he'd come to Dean's elbow.

John looked at his son, "I think you've broken it dude," he announced with a sympathetic look. "C'mon, ER will put a cast on it."

"What will we tell them?" Dean asked worriedly, he'd learned quickly just how careful he had to be about what he told strangers about his life.

"Skate boarding accident," John said without a pause, placing his left hand on the back of Dean's neck as he directed him from the house and out to the Impala.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	10. Books

**The First Time**

**AN**: I hate to say it, but I'm starting to run out of ideas here, hopefully I'll be able to come up with a couple more. It'll be sad when I have to call it quits on this; I've really enjoyed how quickly these have come to me so far.

Dean - 8 Sammy - 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Books**

Dean had said the name of where they were going, but Sammy couldn't seem to remember. What he did hold onto was Dean's promise that wherever it was it would be filled with books!

Sammy loved his books, even the ones he couldn't read without Dean's help. "Are we there yet?" he asked impatiently, swinging Dean's hand as they continued to walk. Dean always said they had to hold hands.

"See that gray building?" Dean asked pointing ahead of them.

Sam nodded enthusiastically.

"Almost there," his brother assured.

Unable to contain his excitement any longer Sammy began skipping along pulling at Dean's arm every time that hand held him back. When he glanced back at his brother Dean was just shaking his head, "C'mon Dean!" he called, looking forward again, they were almost there.

When they finally reached the door Dean pulled Sam aside, "Do you remember what I said?" he asked holding Sammy's shoulders.

He nodded his head happily, "Quiet place!" he replied rather loudly, placing his index finger in front of his mouth.

"Right," Dean laughed and pulled open the door for his brother.

Sammy's eyes went wide when he stepped inside the library. The shelves of books seemed to reach the ceiling, and he wondered how he'd get to the ones he wanted. Before he'd even thought about running to the nearest shelf, Dean leaned down, "Over here Sammy,' he said while pointing to a brighter area of the room. There were little chairs, and brightly painted walls.

They came to the first shelf and all Sammy could do was stare, there were so many books lined up back to front colorful spines facing out towards him. He tipped his head to the right so she could read some of the titles searching for one in particular that would stand out from the rest.

"You can pick two books," Dean reminded, though Sammy barely heard him, as his brown eyes focused in on one book. It was as brightly colored as the rest but the title was weird, Sammy had never seen the word Lorax before.

He moved to reach the book but the shelf was to high for him to reach, "I want that one Dean!" he said excitedly, just barely remembering to keep his voice down.

"Dr. Seuss?" Dean asked while his hand was reaching for the book.

"What's a Lorax?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know; guess we'll have to find out together."

Smiling up at his big brother Sammy quickly made his second selection and followed his brother to the counter where a woman sat glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She looked up when Dean placed the books on the table.

"Good morning boys," she greeted with a friendly smile, "Can I have your library card."

"Do I have one Dean?" Sammy asked immediately.

"No," Dean shook his head, reaching into his pocket.

"Why not?"

"You don't need one so long as I have mine," his brother explained passing his card to the lady who continued to smile down at them.

Sam thought about it for a moment, "Can I have one?" he asked the lady behind the desk.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	11. Flames

**The First Time**

**AN**: This thought occurred to me while I was out traveling with a friend. I know a lot of you are Sammy fans, but I've always lent more towards Dean, I'm trying for an equal balance or something like that.

And Thanks to Sammygirl1963 I have a lot of ideas coming up for this series. Thank you! Please enjoy!

Dean - 10 Sammy - 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Flames**

Dean stood at the edge of an open grave, pouring salt over the decomposing corps in the broken casket, while John dumped a fair amount of gasoline. This was Dean's first hunt which involved a salt'n burn, as his dad called it.

John pulled out a book of matches, and lit one dropping it into the grave. The corps caught fire immediately and Dean watched as the flames raced up and down the body. As they rose to consume the casket all Dean could see was the flames the roar of the fire creeping out of his little brother's room.

_Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean, go!_

The window exploded above his head just seconds before his dad scooped him, and all he could hear was the roar of the flames, as they consumed his once normal life.

_Dean…_

He felt frozen as he watched from the back seat of the cop car, they were trying to save the house, but they couldn't save his mum.

_Dean!_

He only saw the fire.

_Dean look at me!_

The moment broke into a million pieces, and Dean found himself standing on the edge of the grave, body trembling unable to take his eyes off the smoldering remains.

"Dean," John's voice broke through the fog, "Breathe Dean."

He gasped for breath as John physically turned his head away from the open pit, his lungs burning for more air he hadn't realized he needed.

"Dean?" he asked hazel eyes watching him intently.

"Dad?" Dean blinked, "I saw the house…"

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	12. Bobby

**The First Time**

**AN**: It surprises me sometimes how little it takes to spark an idea, for all these drabbles it's been one word. And I've had so much fun writing them. Sometimes I think I've been spending a little too much time on them, when I should be working on other stories, but really these are the ones that are working best right now. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dean - 11 Sammy - 7

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Bobby**

Dean got up from where he had been sitting in the shade of the old porch; dad had dropped them off here suddenly when the hunt took a turn for the worst. And it seriously bothered Dean that he wasn't out there helping his dad. Besides that he'd never met this friend of dad's, Bobby Singer. They had been too far away from Pastor Jim's to be abandoned there, so John had brought them to this scrap metal yard.

The man had hardly said a word to Dean, or Sam for that matter, but for his little brother it didn't seem to matter. He'd been amazed by the piles of old cars, and immediately thrilled to see Bobby had a dog, who he was presently play chase with. Dean was too bitter about being taken off the hunt to want to speak to anyone, but he was also getting bored of just sitting around doing nothing.

Stepping out into the car yard, Dean followed the sound of metal on metal and quickly found where the bear of a man, was working on a car. He liked the look of the old car right away, its smooth lines and rich colors; it reminded Dean of the Impala and his dad, and helping his dad keep her running. It left him wondering where John was now, and would he be safe without someone to watch his back.

The scrape of gravel brought Dean back to the present and he jumped back as Bobby pushed out from under the car. "So finally decide to stop sulking?" he asked, voice deep, nearly booming, though he hadn't spoke loud.

Dean folded his arms across his chest defensively, "I wasn't sulking!"

"You're daddy's been hunting long before you started helping," Bobby commented sitting up as he pulled a cloth from the back of his jeans to clean the grease from his hands. "He knows what he's doing."

"I should be helping him," Dean threw back unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

"You want to be mad at him for looking out for you?" Bobby asked one eyebrow raised.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he realized there really was nothing he could say to that. He wasn't mad at John for trying to keep him and Sam safe, but he also didn't know Bobby well enough to let the hurt he felt at being left behind show through.

"So long as you're standing there," the man said pushing himself back under the car, "Hand me the tools I ask for."

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	13. Pox

**The First Time**

**AN**: As soon as I read the suggestion for this one, I knew what I had to write. I hope you enjoy!

Dean - 8 Sammy - 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Pox**

Dean lay on the worn couch in their small apartment's living room feeling listless and just generally ill. He'd come home from school the day before feeling rundown, and this morning had woke to find red spots covering his entire body. They hadn't started to itch too bad yet, but Dean was miserable at the very thought. And his nursemaid wasn't helping all that much at the moment.

Sammy leaned over Dean blocking his view of their tiny TV, "Want to finish your juice?" he asked brining the cup in front of his face for about the fifth time.

He just shook his head, trying to see around Sammy without actually having to move.

"Daddy," Sammy called over his shoulder, "Dean won't finish his juice."

From the kitchen where he was working on yet another hunt John responded, "That's alright Sammy, why don't you finish it for him."

Without complaint Sammy happily drank the last of the juice, and Dean had to fight to keep himself from laughing. It had been dad who assigned Sammy the job of looking after his older brother. And while Sam was honored to take on the job, Dean knew the reason behind it; the faster they both got over the chicken pox the better. Though he wondered if dad really had the patience to deal with the two of them being sick together.

Sammy's small hand clamped down on Dean forehead, "You're warm," he said matter-of-factly.

"Imagine that," he began dryly but smiled indulgingly up at his little brother, "Five minutes later I'm still sick."

"Don't worry Dean, I'll get you better," Sammy said with all seriousness.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	14. Bruised

**The First Time**

**AN**: So I got three of these done in one day, but to draw it out a little I've waited to post these last two until today. Not that I think it'll take too long to write more, now that I have ideas and all. Still I don't want to bombard people. Thanks for all your support! You guys make this so worth while! I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Dean - 10 Sammy - 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Bruised**

Dean eased himself into the back of the Impala where his little brother slept, he and John had just finished a hunt, and it was time to head back to the motel and gather their things. Dad had already found another hunt a couple of counties over, this is how their summers went, never in one place for more than a week. There was no school to tie them down, though that hardly did it to begin with.

He tried not to breathe as he leaned back against the leather seat, but it was hard, his chest burned with even the smallest breaths. He'd been thrown by the creature, but had got to his feet immediately adrenalin driving away any pain he might have felt. Dean didn't have that buffer now, but he was desperately wishing his did.

"Dean?" Sammy asked from beside him, moving to sit up hair more mussed up that usual sleepy eyes peering through the darkness at his older brother.

Unable to form an answer around the pain, Dean merely nodded reassuringly, offering his brother a stiff smile.

But Sam was unconvinced, "Are you okay?" he asked, and Dean wished Sam could keep his voice down.

"Yeah," Dean managed to force out, though his voice was obviously strained as he drew and released little breaths.

"Daddy!" Sam called, "Dean's hurt!"

"I'm fine," he bit out seeing his father's eyes watching him from the rear view mirror.

"Where?" John asked ignoring Dean's statement.

"It's noth--"

John cut him off, "Where are you hurt?" he was already pulling the Impala onto the shoulder of the road, parking beneath the bright illumination of a streetlight.

"My side hurts," he admitted hating that this was becoming a real deal. They'd survived the hunt, Dean didn't want to cause problems, he didn't want to be taken off the next. He needed to help his dad.

The back door opened before Dean even realized John had got out of the car, and his hands were reaching for the hem of Dean's shirt. He looked down as the thin fabric was brought up under his arms, and saw that his left side was already beginning to bruise, the purpling marks covering nearly his entire side.

"Lay back," John instructed already pushing Dean back towards his brother. "This is going to hurt," he warned bluntly, as his fingers began probing Dean's side.

He cried out in pain trying to pull away from his dad's hands, but there was nowhere for him to go. "Easy," John said, those probing fingers finally coming to rest, "Good news, I don't think you've broke anything."

"Doesn't feel like it," Dean said blinking away tears of pain.

"Well with bruised ribs, it won't make too much of a difference," John said as he was pulling their first aid kit out from under the front seat. Dean pulled his shirt back down and tried to sit up, but the ache was still too strong.

"Is Dean okay?" Sammy asked worriedly.

"He'll be fine," dad replied pulling out a bottle of pills, he broke one of them in half, and handed it to Dean. "This'll help with the pain, it'll probably put you to sleep, don't fight it Ace."

He nodded, dry swallowing the pill and hoping it would kick in soon.

Thanks for reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	15. Stitches

**The First Time**

**AN**:So this one took a couple of turns on me, at first I thought it was going to be about Sammy getting stitched up for the first time. I also thought that it was going to be related to the uBobby/u chapter, but once I got to writing it, everything changed. In case you're wondering what exactly happened to Dean, I'll be dealing with that in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this one.

Dean - 12 Sammy - 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Stitches**

Dean made his way home on unsteady feet, the row of streetlights guiding his way. He could still feel blood running down the side of his head; despite the pressure he was applying to staunch the flow.

The night hadn't gone nearly as planned it was a rare night when John let Dean got out; his main reason for leaving the motel room had been to find some silver. They were running low on ammo, and with a skin walker prowling the area, you could never be too prepared. This had also proved an excellent opportunity to spend a little time with the few friends he had made at the local school. Acquaintances was actually the better term, Dean never opened up enough around these boys to really be called a friend.

Despite that they seemed to gravitate towards him at every school they stopped at. His gut instinct had Dean on alert the minute he met up with them in a dark park.

Dean could see the motel though his vision was swimming in and out of focus, he stumbled to their door and knocked twice, barely remembering to wait a half minute before knocking again.

"It's Dean," he barely heard Sammy say through the door before the latch was removed and he nearly fell in. "Dean!" Sam cried in alarm unable to miss the blood that coated the side of his brother's face.

The panic in Sammy's voice hadn't been missed by John as he stepped out of the kitchen, "Ace what happened?" John asked rushing over to support his son.

"Doesn't matter," he tried to shrug the matter aside as he reached into his pocket to remove the bag of silver.

John knocked the bag aside before scooping Dean into his arms, "Sammy, first aid kit, now!" he barked the order carrying Dean to one of the beds. "Keep your eyes open Dean," John ordered slowly prying his son's hand from the side of his head.

Sammy returned a moment later kit in hand as he climbed up on the bed beside Dean, "Is he going to be alright?" he asked worriedly.

Their dad just nodded reaching to turn on the bedside lamp. Dean winced at the sudden onslaught of light, his eyes closing tightly against it; head pounding in time with his racing heart. "C'mon champ stay with me," John coaxed, prying open on of Dean's eyes.

As his dad's face swam into focus, Dean tried to nod but stopped the minute it made his head pound all the harder. "I just want to sleep," he muttered.

"Soon Ace," John reassured, "But first I've got to patch you up, that gash in your head's going to need stitches."

Dean tilted his head on the pillow to lock eyes with his little brother, "S'okay Sammy," he said reaching out his hand to take his brother's.

"Keep his attention Sammy," John commanded as he pulled out the necessary supplies.

Sam gripped Dean's hand tighter, "Did someone beat you up?"

Dean managed a smirk until his dad upended a bottle of antiseptic on the side of Dean's head. "Hardly," he returned, not really feelingly like getting into the details just now.

"Hold still," John said voice firm as Dean felt his dad pinch the sides of the gash together, that alone made him want to wiggle away. But when the needle pushed through his skin Dean gasped flinching, his entire body jerking.

He shut his eyes tight, feeling the blackness swell up around him, in the distance Dean could hear Sammy pleading with him to open his eyes. But he was just so tired, and at least while he was floating here, the feeling of the stitches being pulled into place felt a little more distant.

"Dean open your eyes!" there was no mistaking John's tone, it was a command. And Dean's eyes did just that, it was all a blur to him as he tried to focus his attention on John. "Almost done," John assured, his arms moving across Dean's line of sight.

"I'm tired," he mumbled or at least thought he did, Dean couldn't tell if his lips actually moved.

"I know," John answered his tone slightly sympathetic as he pulled a clean white bandage above Dean's eyes and secured it to his temple, right under his hair line. "You've got a concussion."

The word hardly made sense to Dean, as his eyes feel closed again. The last thing he heard before dropping into the blackness was Sammy's worried voice. "Will he be alright?" his dad's response was lost to him

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	16. Bullied

**The First Time**

**AN**: When I started writing these, for a while they were following something of a chronological order, but I've since abandoned that so that I don't miss out on any opportunities that I might have forgotten along the way. There's also the matter that each story may not take place along the same universe lines, so something that was stated in one chapter may not count in another.

That said, I like that some of these chapter can follow along the same lines, such as this chapter and the one that came before, and more than likely the one that comes after. The situation in Stitches just offered me too many options not to take them. So I hope you enjoy this next chapter and all the rest to come.

As promised I've added the boys' ages to each of the chapters posted so far, to avoid confusion. No idea why I didn't think to do it before, but better late than never I guess. I'm still not one-hundred percent happy with the how this one turned out, but lacking further ideas I'll let you be the judges. I hope you enjoy

Dean – 12 Sammy - 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Bullied**

Dean stepped out of the pawn shop just as it was closing up, a bag of silver necklaces and bracelets stored safely in his coat pocket. They were presently hunting a skin walker that was lurking somewhere in the area, and they needed more silver bullets. Dad had hustled a few games of pool the night before, giving them more than enough to pick up supplies. Dean was looking forward to showing his dad what he'd managed to get, he'd even managed to barter the man down, leaving them with cash to spare.

But he wouldn't be heading back to the motel just yet. He'd made plans with a few of the kids he knew from school to meet up in one of the local parks. It was rare that Dean had the time to hang out even if it was just for an hour. He always found it a curiosity, to see how regular kids spent their time; it was never anything close to what his childhood had become.

 Dean came to the edge of the park, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning when he saw how poorly lit it was. The first streetlight in sight had been smashed, and he thought the glass on the ground looked fresh. He removed his hands from the pockets of his coat, telling himself he was becoming too paranoid, but all the same he didn't drop his guard as he followed the path deeper into the park.

"Dean!" a familiar voice called out from the shadows, a distant lamp offered little illumination, but Dean could make out the face as Ryan Drake.

"Hey," he greeted with a slight nod of his head.

"Didn't think you were going to show," Ryan grinned, the light glinting off his teeth.

"I thought Dylan was supposed to be here too," Dean commented hazel eyes checking the shadows.

"Guess he's running a little late too," Ryan dismissed.

Dean glanced around his surroundings without much interest, "What's the draw?"

"En," Ryan shrugged, "Some people think this park is haunted, we though it would be right up your alley."

Dean snorted, "What makes you say that?" he'd been to more than his fair share of haunted places, nothing felt different at this park.

Ryan stepped closer to Dean, continuing to smile, "We've seen those books you read, all that devil worshiping stuff," Ryan said the smile dropping from his face.

Behind him Dean heard a stick crunch and he was immediately on guard, but he kept his stance calm, "That's just a passing interest." A bush rustled to his left.

"What about all the recent deaths?" Ryan asked his tone lightening as though he were attempting for the moment at least to keep it casual. "Do you have any theories on that?"

That raised an eyebrow, "You think I have something to do with it?" he returned skeptically.

"The way you move around so much, you've got to be running from something," Ryan was quick to point out.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Where'd you head that?'

"Doesn't matter" the boy shrugged the question aside.

"And just what are you planning to do here?" Dean asked very much aware of the two others easing their way towards him. "Ambush me? Just what's that going to accomplish?"

"That we're not just going to sit by, while you cause problems with your demonic cult."

Is that what they thought it was? Dean never allowed himself to get truly close to any of his classmates, too many questions he couldn't answer. But perhaps this time it would have been the smart thing to do. He might have picked up on these beliefs and miss guided information before it all came down to this.

Two boys came bursting out of the tree, right where Dean had expected them to be, '_Watch your surrounding_' his dad's voice repeated in his head. It had been a tough lesson learned over the years, but it all paid off. Dean easily dodged to the side slipping under the baseball bat Dylan was swinging at his head. The other boy was far taller than all of them, perhaps an older brother Dean thought weaving out of the man's reach as he worked to keep his opponents in a line rather than letting them surround him.

It was hard work, causing Dean to expend far more energy than his attackers. His fist clenched, he ducked under the taller man's swing, and slammed him in the floating rib, just as John had taught him. It wouldn't drop the man permanently but it would take him a while to regain his breath.

Dean turned on Ryan, "Is this really what you want?" he demanded.

Ryan's response was to charge in, but he'd left himself wide open, and one round house to his jaw was enough to drop Ryan to the ground. Dean barely missed Dylan's swing of the bad, hearing it rush past his ear. His dodge proved a mistake as he felt burly arms wrap tightly around his chest. Dean was lifted off the ground with easy, but the struggle hadn't left him yet. The heels of his shoes sought out any soft target his could reach.

The adrenalin coursing through his system was enough to help him break free of his captor. He stumbled to the ground kicking out with his right leg to catch the man square in the groin. Dean barely noticed the color drain from the man's face, as he crumpled to his knees gasping for breath.

Ryan was just beginning to pick himself up off the ground, and Dean cursed under his breath. Three against one were hardly fair odds, not even counting the training his dad was giving him. John continued to tell him there was so much more he had to learn. Ryan rushed Dean again not learning from his first mistake, as Dean's fist collided with his left eye. He heard the boy cry out in pain, just as pain exploded across Dean's head.

His vision blurred blackness and bright colors flashing across his vision as he sank to his knees. '_What your surrounding!_' John's voice echoed somehow managing an admonishing tone. That was the last though Dean has as he fell heavily onto his side.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	17. Concussion

**The First Time**

**AN**: Surprise! Second chapter of the day! I hope you enjoy!

This would be the final connection to the last two chapter, I could have made each one separate, but I like this flow, as well as it removed any explanation I'd otherwise have to give. I hope you enjoy. Coming up more chapters with our Sammy, cause he's just so cute when he's excited.

Dean – 12 Sammy – 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the character from Supernatural

**Concussion**

John glanced at his watch illuminating the face, with the streetlight outside the motel window. It was late going on one o'clock in the morning, but he wasn't about to give into sleep, not after what happened to Dean. He hadn't been able to get even half the story out of his son before Dean drifted off; only a couple of mumbled names, John was pretty sure the first had been Ryan.

Placing a hand on Dean's forehead, John felt for any signs of a fever, not uncommon with a concussion. Sammy shifted on the bed next to Dean cuddling just a little closer to his brother. Sammy hadn't left Dean's side, insisting he'd look after Dean, because that's what Dean would do for him. John let him help, getting his youngest to gently shake Dean awake so the hunter could check on his eldest. Despite his determination Sammy fell asleep at his post around eleven o'clock.

"Dean…" Sammy mumbled, and John reached out with a tired smile to ruffle his youngest son's hair.

With a rough sigh, John took hold of Dean's shoulder, and gave his son a slight shake. To his relief Dean responded almost immediately. He groaned shifting on the bed before the pain in his head stopped him; in the morning John might be able to give him something for it, but not right now.

"G…way…" Dean muttered not opening his eyes.

"I need you to open your eyes Ace," John encouraged, holding the military command in check, incase this didn't work.

Long lashes flutter over Dean's pale cheeks, and John could just make out the hint of green in those tired eyes. "Sleep…" he all but pleaded.

"Do you want to wake up tomorrow?" he asked using his thumb and fore finger to pry open Dean's left eye, sweeping the light from a small flashlight across his pupil to make sure it was still responding.

"Don't care…about tomorrow," he said around a large yawn which ended in a painful wince. "Head hurts," Dean complained something he didn't do often.

"I know Ace," he said dropping his hand down to rest on his son's chest, "Tomorrow I'll give you something. But for now, how many fingers am I holding up?" he brought his right hand into Dean's line of sight.

"Two," his son answered confidently, lids dropping heavily, "Can I sleep now?" it almost sounded like a plea, also very unlike Dean.

John nodded his head, though he doubted Dean saw it, "Until the next time."

"Wish he'd hit my arm, instead of my head," Dean whined as his eyes fell closed again.

John knew exactly where his son was coming from. Head injuries were never fun, and he'd experienced his fair share of them. It actually surprised him a little that Dean had gone this long without getting a concussion. He tended to run into the hunts head long, but his skull was thick and at most he'd only walked away with a headache. Whoever did this to him, had to have been strong, perhaps even trying to kill his boy.

That made John's blood boil, no one messed with his boys. He forced himself to settle back on his chair, telling himself that tomorrow he'd know exactly what happened, and could deal with it then. It was hardly fair compensation.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	18. Park

**The First Time**

**AN**: Alright, so I said a while back that I was trying for an even spread with these chapters, some dealing with Dean, other with Sam…I know so far it been far more Dean heavy than Sam. But I'm hoping that the next few chapters make up for that. Thanks so much, for all your wonderful support! Writing these stories has been a real joy for me! Enjoy!

Dean – 7 Sammy – 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Park**

Dean stood for a moment face upturned to the sun, just letting the warmth of the sun, bathe his face. He still found it hard to believe that driving for a day could change the weather so dramatically, it was still January, so why wasn't it cold here? Dean wasn't about to complain, today was his birthday, and dad had asked him what he wanted to do.

It hadn't taken him any time to decide, he wanted to take Sammy to one of the local parks, to play on the swings, slides and the jungle gyms. Little Sam hadn't been to any of these yet, and Dean knew it would make his younger brother smile.

John sat on a picnic table, two books open in front of him as he made notes in a smaller book Dean remembered seeing his dad carry around all the time. Every now and then John would glance up to see his boys, though his main focus seemed to be on the books. Dean didn't fully understand what his dad was doing, but whatever it was he knew it had to be good.

"Dee!" Sammy called; although he could now say 'Dean' Sammy still preferred his shortened form.

Dean walked over to his brother who was standing in front of the swing set, looking curious. "You want to ride the swings?" Dean asked already lifting his little brother into one of the child safe seats.

Sammy's eyes shone with anticipation, and he clapped his hands in delight.

"Ready?" he asked ducking around Sam's right shoulder.

His brother nodded enthusiastically, and Dean took hold of either side of the swing, pulling it back just a little before letting it go. He didn't want to scare his brother, but Sammy seemed delighted. And so Dean pushed a little harder slowly working Sammy up to a decent height, now was where the real fun began.

Dean ran out in front of his brother, before diving under the swing last minute, this made Sammy laugh all the harder. He made it look like the swing was going to hit him but jumped back at the last minute; Sam was too young to fear any danger towards his brother. He was just laughing at the faces Dean was making as he ran towards the swing, catching the chains to bring it to a halt.

Sammy was breathless in delight, little arms reaching out for Dean's neck. He accepted his brother's hug lifting Sammy from the seat before putting him back on the ground, where his little brother made a beeline for the teeter-totter. Dean was fast on his brother's heels, but cast one glance back at his dad, only to see a tiny smile on John's face. Dean was having trouble remembering the last time he'd seen that expression.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	19. Fair

**The First Time**

**AN**: Oh look at these stories getting longer and longer. Does that bother anyone? –I sort of doubt it- but there's just so much I want to tell in these chapters, too much to try and keep it down to a couple hundred words. I hope you enjoy this chapter

Dean – 9 Sammy – 5

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Fair**

The leaves were falling off the trees, as Dean climbed out of Pastor Jim's old truck, he moved instinctively to help Sammy out of his car seat, but Jim stopped him. "That's alright my boy," he smiled warmly; "I've got Sammy."

Dean closed the truck door, a deep cough in his chest rattling its way up his throat. He'd been fighting off the cold for at least a week, as always it settled into his chest, a stubborn cough that just didn't want to go away. Dad had dropped them off at the old Pastor's country home. From the half of the phone call Dean had managed to catch, he felt pretty sure it had been Jim's suggestion.

He hadn't been the least bit happy about Dad going off on his own to fight a poltergeist, but as both Dad and Jim pointed out, one more gently than the other. He'd be a liability as the cough left him winded more often than not.

"Dee!" Sammy cheered running around the front of the truck to take his brother's hand, Jim looked on with that deeply caring smile Dean couldn't quite seem to understand.

Dean couldn't fight back the coughing fit any longer and nearly doubled over as it became a fight to breath. "Dee!" he could hear Sammy call worriedly, and soon found two hand patting him on the back, the gentler of the two was clearly that of Pastor Jim.

When he could finally draw a full breath, Dean opened his eyes to see Jim holding a puffer in front of him. It was something his father couldn't have afforded, but Jim was more than willing to foot the bill to help his friend, and the children he looked on as grandchildren.

"You okay Dee?" Sammy asked worriedly, small hand pulling at Dean's shirt.

He just nodded his head, taking a couple of puff from the inhaler feeling his breathing come easier. "I'm alright Sammy," he assured, passing the medicine back to Pastor Jim.

"We're going to take it easy today," Jim said dropping a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"But it's the fall fair," Dean complained, there was so much he wanted to do, the rides, games, and of course show Sammy around. He'd been too young the last time to remember.

"Dean my boy, be happy with what you get, not bitter about what you can't," the Pastor philosophized, patting Dean's shoulder as he guided both boys into the park.

"Dee! Dee!" Sammy cheered eyes going wide as all the sights, sounds, and colors. And before he knew it he was being pulled in all directions.

"Easy Samuel," Jim said voice maintaining a calm, Dean rarely saw in his dad.

"I want that ride!" his enthusiasm not dimmed in the slightest, as he pointed at a small rollercoaster.

"Woah, Sammy, " Dean  pulled his brother up, pointing at the smiling clown with it's hand sticking out indicating the height necessary to get on the ride. Sammy shied away from the smiling wood cut out, but stepped under the hand, proving his was just tall enough to get one the ride.

"I'll be waiting right here boys," Jim said nodding for Dean to head up the line.

It took less than a minute for Dean and Sam to get into one of the carts, and Dean made extra sure that Sammy was securely in his seat. "Are you ready?" he asked excited himself.

"YES!" his little brother cheered slapping his hands on the rail across their legs. Before long the rollercoaster took off, pushing them both back in their seats. Despite his enjoyment of the ride, the rush of adrenaline, Dean kept a careful eye on his brother making sure that Sammy was having as much fun.

When the cart came to a stop, Sam was laughing, "Again!" he cried excitedly.

Dean could help but smile, "Why don't we try some other rides first?" he suggested, and the mystery of what was out there was enough to have Sammy clamoring from his seat as fast as he could. Jim was waiting exactly where he said, with a wide smile nearly as wide as Sammy's.

"You should've come with!" Sam said hugging Pastor Jim around his waist.

"Afraid I'm a little old for those rides," he confessed winking at Dean.

Glancing around at the carnival games, Dean caught sight of one he just had to try, "Pastor Jim can I play that one?" he asked pointing at the booth, with lots of stuffed animals hanging above the man's head.

"Dean my boy, those games really aren't worth the money," Pastor Jim began.

"I can do this one!" Dean insisted, and he sweetened the deal by turning to Sammy, "Do you want a stuffed bear?"

Sammy nodded happily, "Please!" his little brother piped up.

Dean didn't wait for an answer but rushed over to the booth picking up the rifle like pellet gun. "You're going to try for the big prize?" the man behind the booth asked, smiling at Dean as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

Just as his dad had taught him Dean sighted down the barrel, noticing that it wasn't quite straight, but he could compensate for that. "How much?" Jim asked but Dean barely heard as he sighted his first target, taking it out in one shot. He released his breath before each shot helping to steady his arm, as he dropped the targets one by one.

"Alright!" Dean cheered putting the gun down and looking up to see a slightly stunned expression on the man's face. A brief look at Pastor Jim had him seeing a sad light in those pale eyes.

"You're an impressive shot, lad," the man admitted, "So what would you like?"

Dean turned to find Sammy so he could pick, but instead of seeing his little brother's smiling face he saw that Sam was in tears. He was staring down the row of booths but Dean couldn't see anything that would have upset him. "Sammy what's wrong?" he asked taking his brother's shoulder. The contact sent his little brother throwing his arms around Dean clinging tightly as though afraid he might disappear.

"Did you see what happened?" Dean asked the Pastor.

Jim looked as confused as Dean felt, "No," he confessed.

Dean picked his brother up, letting Sam burry his head in the crook of Dean's neck, before turning back to the vendor. "I'll take that bear," he said pointing at one of the smaller prizes. The man got it down and handed it across to Dean. "Look what I won for you Sammy," he tried to comfort his brother.

Sammy raised his head to see the bear, and a flicker of a smile crossed his face, as he reached out to take the bear from his brother cuddling him close. Pastor Jim rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Shall I take him?" he asked leaning close to Dean's ear.

The older Winchester just shook his head, hefting Sammy a little higher on his hip, as Jim guided them back towards the parking lot. They hadn't much of a day out, but Sammy clearly just wanted to go home.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	20. Clowns

**The First Time**

**AN**: Not being afraid of clowns myself I had to make some guesses as to what would do it. Although I suppose it could be absolutely nothing, since people can have fears for no reason at all. Aww but poor Sammy, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dean – 9 Sammy – 5

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Clowns**

Sammy stood in awe of it all, so many people moving around, the lights, the sounds, and the barely audible music flowed from every directly, calling for his attention. He stepped further down the booth Dean had brought them too glancing around the corner at even more booths, a near endless line of them, each with flashing lights and wonderful toys hanging from them.

He wanted to go exploring, but knew better than to leave Pastor Jim's side; still it couldn't hurt to just look at the next booth. Stepping around the corner Sammy's brown eyes widened as he saw the huge stuffed animals hanging from the rafters, they were all kinds of bright colors, some nearly as big as he was.

The woman behind the counter looked down at him with a friendly smile, leaning her elbows on the counter as she pointed behind him. "Look," she sad in an excited voice, "Here comes a clown, I'll bet he'll make you a balloon pet."

Sam turned to see the brightly dressed man heading towards him, entire face painted white, his lips were larger than they should be, making his mouth seem wide enough to swallow Sammy whole. The way he half danced while he walked Sam found creepy, adults walked normal, that's how he'd always seen it.

"Well hello there!" the clown greeted, with a frightening laugh.

It all looked frightening to Sammy now, the puffy hair, bells that jingled every time the clown moved. But most of all his voice, it sent shivers down his back. "Go, away," he just barely managed to whisper.

The clown only smiled wider, those huge red lips all Sammy could see, "Would you like a balloon doggy?" the creature asked, Sam couldn't let himself believe it was human.

Sam's back was pressed tight against the booth he'd come to see, and he could feel himself beginning to panic with no way out. "No," he shook his head adamantly wanting to shut his eyes tightly but terrified of what the clown might do to him.

He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate while staring into those strangely painted eyes, they didn't look human. Sammy barely heard the woman behind him speak, before he couldn't take any more of it. Tears of fear sprung from his eyes as Sammy rushed around the corner just in time to see Dean looking at him.

Sammy raced to his only refuge, wrapping his arms tightly around his big brother body shaking as he continued to cry. He was hardly aware as Dean lifted him off the ground; his arms just snaked around Dean's neck as he buried his face into his brother's neck. Dean would protect him; there was nothing his brother was scared of.

"Look what I won for you Sammy," Dean's voice was clear in Sam's hear and he carefully opened one eye to see a teddy bear. And a tiny smile broke through Sammy's fear as he reached out to take the bear from his brother holding it close as Dean carried him away.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	21. Drowning

**The First Time**

**AN**:_Due to crap, none of you would want to hear about, I haven't been able to write anything today, so there may not be a post tomorrow. I'm hoping tomorrow will be better, but nothing about this week looks promising._

I think I had an idea for this one, that didn't deal with the literal meaning…but silly me I didn't write it down, so now I'm going with the literal which I think will work out just fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter

Dean – 15 Sammy – 11

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Drowning**

They'd hunted down a water spirit, to a remote spring deep in the Rocky Mountains. This was among Sam's first hunts, and he was proud to say he'd helped a lot with the research. But that was the only part of this hunting life that Sam didn't hate. He'd watched over the years as both Dean and dad, had returned home from one of their hunts injured, half frozen and just about all of it was taken care of at the cheep motel room. Couldn't afford the hospital dad would always say, and out would come their first-aid kit.

Dean seemed completely fine with this way of life; he found each hunt more exciting than the last. It didn't matter that he might come home bruised and bloody. Or that this way of life had the risk of death around every corner. This is what Dean lived for, and while at first Sam had been in awe of his brother's knowledge of weapons and how to protect them; now Sam only saw the danger that was eating both his father and brother up.

Still it was his duty to play his part in these hunts whether he agreed with it or not. And the most he could do was try and watch his brother's back.

Sam was shocked from his thoughts, when an icy hand wrapped about his arm, he tried desperately to raise his shot gun to defend himself but the spirit knocked it from his hands.

"Sammy!" he could head Dean shouting but it sounded distant, as the cold sank deeper into his skin.

"_Play with me…_" a sultry voice coxed, and Sam stood frozen unable to see the spirit which had spoken to him.

Before Sam had even fully registered the words and danger he was yanked from his feet, falling face first into the cold waters of the spring. He heard a gun shot reverberate off the mountains, as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees spluttering water from his mouth and nose.

"Sammy!" he heard Dean call again, and he was just about to move towards the voice when he head was suddenly pulled back under water. He struggled violently against the unseen hands holding him.

His fingers slipped on the rocks below, and he couldn't find leverage to push himself up. Eyes wide with fright Sam saw nothing around him, only the crystal clear waters that would soon be his death. Lungs burned for oxygen throat constricted in reflex against the water. Sam's vision was beginning to fade, black edges swimming around his peripherals as he realized he was loosing this battle.

Almost absently he wondered where Dean and his dad were, had they too been dragged down into the water to face a terrifying death of drowning. As the blackness continued to swell, and his lungs burned all the harder, all Sam could feel was hopelessness as exhaustion swept across him.

Suddenly Sam was being ripped from the water, his lungs demanding oxygen while he coughed out mouthfuls of water afraid he'd choke now back on dry land. Gasping for each breath his body shaking from both the near death experience as well as the freezing water, Sam was barely aware of his surroundings. All he could feel was warm reassuring arms wrapped around him, and Dean's muffled voice speaking in his ear.

When finally he pushed away muddled brain trying to figure out all of what happened, Sam came face to face with the furry of his dad. "Damnit Sam!" he roared, face tight with his obvious anger, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Sam felt compelled to answer his father, silences wasn't an option, but as he opened his mouth nothing came out. He didn't know what to say, he'd made a mistaken, not an option in the Winchester house. Dean's arms tightened around him offering what little warmth could make it through his freezing clothes.

"You lost focus!" John continued voice biting through ever reserve Sammy had, but he couldn't look away. "You do that you die!" John's command left no room for mistakes, but Sam had made a big one.

He wanted to shy away from the rage he saw in his father's eyes, but before he even realized it had happened John had pulled Sam into a tight hug lifting him from the ground. Confused Sam wrapped his arms around his dad's neck, and could feel the tremors running through the untouchable man. Sam held him tighter, tears falling from his eyes as he finally realized just how close to death he'd come.

"I can't loose you," John whispered hugging him tight right arm stroking the back of Sammy's head as they made their way away from the spring.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel

_Oddly enough I had an actually experience in my life that sort of fit the idea. I had been riding a horse called Breeze -for very good reasons- when I asked her to canter I lost hold of one of the reigns. This caused me to loose my balance which meant my legs tightened on her sides in order to keep me on. Of course this only told Breeze to run all the faster. I was thrown into the wall, and when I got up my instructer was running towards me shouting._

_"That was your fault! You're fault"_

_I wasn't going to disagree but after a he reached me, he pulled me into the tightest hug. Just showing that some people deal with fear by reacting with anger._


	22. Lost

**The First Time**

**AN**: You know, I'm really not sure about this chapter, it is the way it came to me, but I wonder if one of the characters will come off as out of character. I don't want to go into the details right now for why I wrote it this way, I'm hoping you'll understand. I'm probably not making any sense right now. So I'll let you decide, I hope you enjoy.

Dean – 10 Sammy – 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Lost**

"Dean?" Sammy called hesitantly; "Dad?" he tried again, but the only answers he received in return was the rustling of leaves in the trees, and several other sounds he couldn't distinguish. Eyes wide trying desperately to see through the darkness, to find where he'd lost his way.

It had all started as one of their dad's training missions, Sam didn't fully understand why it was necessary to be out in the cold woods in the middle of the night. But he had learned from Dean, not to question is dad on these things. Besides his brother was there with him, how bad could it be?

Light was just barely illuminating the forest when they left the Impala and Sam had made sure to stick close to Dean. He'd refused to take his brother's hand, feeling that he was getting too old for that now.

Sam sniffled, holding his left knee closer to his chest, as the gash throbbed all the harder. He wished now he'd been more willing to take Dean's hand. A cold shiver ran down Sammy's spin as the wind picked up rushing through the trees to assault as he tried to huddle closer for warmth.

They'd been hiking for a good long while when something on one of the trees had caught Sam's attention and without thinking he'd stopped to look at it. It had been a huge moth, just resting on the bark of the tree; it nearly completely blended in with the wood. Sam wanted to reach out and touch it but before he'd even raised his hand the moth had taken flight.

When he'd looked up, dad and Dean were completely out of sight; panic had driven him to race down the narrow game trail they'd been following. But he couldn't see them, "Dean!" he shouted, but the wind swept away his words. Without realizing it Sam had left the path, falling down a small ravine.

Sam tried to look down at his knee, he could feel the blood oozing from it, but couldn't tell how bad it was. He was cold and alone, and beginning to feel scared, "Dean!" he tried again, still hearing nothing in return. He shivered again teeth chattering, it sound deafening to his ears.

Through the panic he felt Sam had managed to remember his dad's words '_If you get lost, just stay put, we'll find you._' Sam felt the words had been more for him that Dean, he couldn't imagine his brother being this stupid. Dean took everything their dad said seriously.

Sam's brown eyes swept the shadows around him, hoping that this time he might just be able to find the small flashlight his dad had given him. But there was nothing just like the last five times, "Dean!" he cried curling into a tighter ball in a desperate attempt to keep himself warm.

Had they even noticed he was missing? Were they looking for him?

Sam shook his head squashing those thoughts immediately; of course they were looking for him. They just couldn't find him. Sammy fought back the tears that were threatening to fall, but he was cold and hurt, and didn't know what he could do.

Absently Sam noticed that the shivering had all but stopped, which meant the pain in his knee was lessening. That was a relief, but in the back of Sammy's mind he knew it really wasn't a good thing, though he couldn't quiet remember why. "Dean!" he shouted one more time, before dropping his head to his knees trying to curl into the tightest ball he could.

'_Sammy_'

The wind rustled through the trees branches scrapping against each other, sounding deafening to his ears.

'_Sammy! Where are you?!_'

Lifting his head Sam thought he'd heard his name, but it was hard to tell over the wind, "Dean?!" he shouted again, head up looking up the slope of the ravine, "Dean!!"

"Sammy!!" his dad's voice called sharply, and Sam thought he saw the quick flashes of light through the trees.

"Down here!" he all but cried, and a bright light broke through the trees nearly blinding him.

"Sammy!" Dean called relief clear in his voice as he made his way down the slope to his brother. The flashlight continued to illuminate his face, his eyes were watering and he wasn't sure if that was from the bright light, or the relief washing over him. "Dad he's hurt." His brother called back over his shoulder, "You'll be alright Sammy," Dean assured.

Branches cracked and snapped as dad and Dean made their way to him. Sam wanted to move to meet them but his muscles weren't responding to his call. Dean was at his side right hand reaching for the side of Sammy's face, "You're freezing," Dean said moving his hand to Sam's forehead, pulling away suddenly. "He's got a head wound," his brother called back over his shoulder.

"Sammy," dad said coming around to his other side, both hands searching Sam's hairline for the source of the blood. "What happened?" he asked voice firm, as he lifted his son's head so Sam was looking his dad in the eyes.

"I…" his voice trembled. "I got lost…" Sam muttered head dropping.

"Dad?" Dean's voice was concerned.

"There's no head wound," John breathed, "Where're you hurt?"

Sam managed to point at his knee, but was more focused on whether or not his dad was mad at him for not following them more closely. Sam found it hard to read his dad at the best of times, but here in the dark, after he'd made a mistake, Sam couldn't help but feel that dad was mad at him.

Before he knew it, Sam was being lifted into his dad's strong arms; he bit down on a whimper when his leg was jostled. "Sorry…" his whispered into his dad's ear and John's hand rubbed up and down Sam's frozen arm.

"You did okay Sammy," John said and the words surprised Sam's muddled head, exhaustion taking over now that he was safe.

"I didn't follow…" he muttered trying to understand.

"You didn't panic either," his dad returned. "He's going to be alright Dean," John said, and Sam hadn't even heard his brother asking about him, it was all becoming a blur to him, as relief washed over the cold and pain.

Sam tried to raise his head from his dad's shoulder, determined to make this right, "I'll do better," he promised as earnestly as he could, still unable to believe dad wasn't all that mad. Sam had heard John let into Dean before, so why wasn't he doing it now?

"I know," John said, "Dean get the thermal blanket, you'll need to keep him warm…"

His father's deep voice resonating from John's neck to Sammy's ear was lulling, and he let himself give into sleep. What would happen tomorrow didn't matter now.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	23. Hypothermia

**The First Time**

**AN**: At Sammygirl1963 I'm adding an extra chapter, it takes place right where Lost ends, I hope you enjoy some Sammy Hurt/Comfort

So I wrote it….but to be honest I'm not at all happy with how it turned out…so much so that I don't want to go back over it and re-read but I will post it and hope that I didn't fail completely. I hope you can enjoy this chapter

Dean – 10 Sammy – 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Hypothermia**

"Sammy," he heard his name called as though from a great distance, and although he was tired he felt the urgency in the sound of his name and forced his eyes to open.

"You've got to stay awake Sammy," his dad's voice was saying though the words didn't make all that much sense to him. "Get in the front Ace," John instructed, and Sam tried to see what his dad was talking about.

Sam could just make out the shape of the Impala, but he couldn't see his brother, "Dean?" he said concerned.

"He's here Sammy," John assured, and Sam felt his dad lean forward and he was being moved a thick blanket wrapping around him.

"I've got you Sammy," Dean's voice spoke into his ear.

The engine roared to life, and Sammy's body began to shiver despite the blanket and the warmth he could feel from his brother's arms around him. "C…cold," he managed to slip through his chattering teeth.

"Dad?" his brother asked worriedly.

There was a rush of air in the Impala, "He's slightly hypothermic," Sam could hear the words but didn't understand them.

He looked up at his older brother, lids heavy, "Dean? W…hat happ…ened?" he tired to look around, down at himself, but his vision wanted to blur.

"Are you sure he didn't hit his head?" there was worry in his brother's voice.

John's reply was short, "Keep him awake Ace."

"Hey Sammy," Dean said lowering his head so Sammy could see his brother's face, "How you doing?"

Sam winced, "Hurts," he mumbled, his limbs prickled painfully, and his knee had begun throbbing again.

"I know," Dean replied, "But it's probably a good sign."

That didn't make sense, and he let his eyes fall closed, feeling the heat from the Impala's vents brush across his face.

He felt his shoulders shake, "Sammy open your eyes," Dean's voice was firm.

"I'm tired," he muttered not opening his eyes.

"We're home, c'mon Sammy, just a little while longer," his brother coaxed giving Sam another gentle shake. With a lot of effort Sam cracked opened on eye, absently hearing the Impala shut off.

"I'll take him," dad's voice appeared suddenly from the passenger's side door and it made Sammy jump, a whimper of pain escaping him. "Get the first-aid kit."

"Oww," Sam winced, as his dad lifted him out of the car.

"You're alright."

He felt the quick stride of his dad carrying him into the motel room they'd been calling home, lights were switched on, and Sammy shut his eyes tight against the brightness. John lowered him onto the bed, warm hand touching Sam's temple, "Open your eyes dude," he said.

Sam was getting tired of hearing that, and even more tired trying to follow these orders, couldn't he just sleep?

"Sam, open your eyes," there was no missing the command in dad's voice, and he did as he was asked forcing heavy lids up to stare blearily at his dad. "Good boy," John offered him what looked like a smile. "How's your head?"

"Don't know…" he muttered trying to see around his dad, "Where's Dean?"

"I'm here," Dean said coming into view.

"Go get him a warm sweater and pants," dad said even as he was slowly taking of Sam's coat and shirt.

"Cold," Sam protested.

"You'll warm up," John said calmly, moving to Sammy's torn jeans, he jumped when the material was torn off his hurt knee.

"Can you sit up Sammy?" Dean asked holding a warm looking sweater in his hands, a pair of sweat pants on the bed. Sam tried to respond, and his dad reached out a hand to help him. His shivering didn't stop once the thick material was covering him.

Dad was probing around his knee, "This isn't too bad," he said.

"Can I sleep now?" Sammy asked his voice nearly a plea.

John's hand moved to Sam's forehead, "Soon Sammy."

Dean lay next to Sam, wrapping his arms around his little brother, "You're very brave," Dean encouraged.

Sammy just shook his head, his eyes shutting. He thought he heard Dean protest, but couldn't hear, and no one tried to wake him. Wrapped in his brother's warm arms and back where it was safe, Sam couldn't fight the need for sleep any longer.

Thanks for Reading -_if you made it this far_-

Morganeth Taren'drel


	24. Flowers

**The First Time**

**AN**: This idea popped into my head while I was reading a SPN story, which lead to a second fic to follow this one, I hope you enjoy.

Dean – 4 Sammy – 4 days old

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Flowers**

"Daddy?" Dean called from the back door of their house, his excitement, barely able to wait for his dad to come around the corner.

"What is it buddy?" he asked, walking over to Dean and ruffled his hair.

"Can I go outside!" he said knocking on the glass of the screen door looking out at the sun filled back yard.

John smiled down at him, "We're going to be picking up mummy and Sammy soon."

Little hands smacked on the glass again, as excited as he was to be getting his little brother, Dean wanted to do something for his mummy. He'd watched the pretty colors bloom in their back yard and knew they'd make mummy smile.

"Alright Ace," his dad finally nodded, unlatching the door and held it open for Dean.

He ran to the blooming flowers and immediately began picking the prettiest one. The shadow of his father fell across him, and he looked up with a wide smile. "Try and leave some in the garden buddy," John laughed reaching down to help Dean's little hands hold the flowers.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	25. Sammy

**The First Time**

**AN**: I don't know why I didn't think of this story before, should have been the first. Oh well better late than never.

Dean – 4 Sammy – 4 days old

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Sammy**

Dean wanted to race down the white halls of the hospital to the room his mum and baby brother were in. But dad's hand holding tightly onto his kept Dean just a half step ahead, "Easy Dean," John laughed, "They'll still be there."

Bouncing on his toes Dean clutched the flowers he'd picked all the tighter, a wide smile beaming across his face. The hall they entered smelt weird to Dean and he wrinkled his little nose.

"We're almost there Ace," dad said walking a little faster himself which caused Dean to want to flat out run.

"Dean!" mum's voice said happily as John steered his son into one of the rooms.

"Mummy!" Dean all but leapt onto the bed his rough bouquet held out before him.

"Did you get these for me?" Mary asked cupping her hands around the colorful flowers.

Dean nodded enthusiastically, "I missed you!" he said throwing his arms around Mary's neck, to hug her tightly. He was barely aware of his dad taking the floors from him.

"Oh I missed you too Dean," mum hugged him back. When Dean pulled back Mary was smiling all the wider, "Are you ready to meet you're little brother?" she asked shifting him so he was sitting side ways on her lap.

"Yes!" Dean cheered hazel eyes darting around the room wondering where Sammy was.

"Keep you voice down," John reminded, smiling at his wife and son, and in his arms he was carrying a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.

With his mum's help the little bundle was placed in his arms as John took a seat on the edge of the bed. Dean looked down, as Mary pulled the blankets away from the baby's face.

Dean looked down in amazement, "Hello Sammy," he whispered unable to take his eyes of the small red face. Sammy squirmed a little, tiny face scrunching up; Dean leaned down to gently kiss his new brother's face. And he caught that scent from in the hall; he looked up seriously at his mummy. "Babies smell," he told them bluntly.

Mary hugged her boys tightly, and Dean couldn't imagine a better place to be than in his parents' arms.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	26. Poisoned

**The First Time**

**AN**:Welcome to the chapter that could be its own story!

I'd been toying with this idea for a while wondering who should be the center of this story. But that was relatively easy to decide, go with what you know 'Dean'. I plan on expanding me field with the chapter First-aid. But I won't go into details now. I'm not worried with how long this one might get, I just want it to play out however it does. I hope you enjoy!

Dean – 16 Sammy – 12

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Poisoned**

"Bloody Hell!" Dean cursed watching as the Black Dog made another lap around. The silver bullets were hardly slowing the damn thing down, and Dean was doing everything he could to protect his little brother. "Aim for its heart!" Dean shouted to where Sam stood behind him, the Browning 9mil still looking too big for his brother's hands.

"Where's dad and Bobby?" Sam asked a clear tremor in his voice.

"Hunting the other son of a bitch!" he barked back firing off a round of silver. It surprised him how agile the creature was jumping to the side so the bullet just grazed its side. It still cried out in pain, a satisfying sound, but they were going to run out of bullets, if they didn't down the creature soon.

They were standing inside a salt circle; they hadn't been able to find clear indication that it would stop a Black Dog. So far it seemed to be working; it hadn't made an attempt towards them.

The Black Dog howled angrily, and Dean felt warnings go off sharply in his head; the bloody thing was just toying with them. Those blood red eyes glinted in the clear moonlight as it charged them head on. Dean fired for the creature's heart, but as it leapt for him ignoring the salt completely Dean knew he'd missed.

He was thrown to the ground a scream of pain escaping him as he felt the creature's teeth clamp down on his thigh.

"Dean!" Sam's voice was panicked.

"Take the shot!" he cried. Dean tried to see through eyes watering with pain, but was relieved to hear the gun fire. Dean swore violently as the dog's jaw clamped down all the harder, in its death throws.

"Dean!" Sam cried, "Dean!" his little brother rushed over.

"I'm alright," he lied pushing himself up on his elbows, his breaths coming in short pants.

"I've got to get this off of you," Sam said voice barely holding it together.

Gasping for breath Dean reached out a hand to stop his brother. He could just barely make out the muzzle of creature, but if the burning on his skin and running up his veins was any indication the bite was poisonous. Dean could tell shock was beginning to set in as he instructed his brother, "Don't touch its teeth," he managed to push out past the pain.

Sammy nodded, kneeling next to the Black Dog, "Are you ready?" his brother asked sounding anything but himself.

Dean let himself fall back to the ground, nodding his head as he clenched his teeth against the coming pain. But it did no good, as soon as Sam took hold of the dog, Dean's breath left him in a deafening scream. His body instinctively rolled away from the source of the pain, but the fire continued to sear through his thigh. His throat felt raw as he finally swallowed back the pain just enough find his breath.

"C'mon Dean open your eyes," Sammy's voice broke through the wall of fog and Dean forced himself to respond.

"Still…here…" he panted, forcing one eye to open, Sam knelt next to him hands on his chest and shoulder.

"You're bleeding pretty bad Dean," Sam said his worry palatable.

Attempting to draw a few even breaths without much luck, Dean swallowed heavily, "Get our bags." Sam looked reluctant to leave Dean's side for even a minute but did as he was asked, "…first-aid…" he winced forced to trail off. "Help me sit up," Dean said when he could speak again.

Sam had their first-aid kit out almost before Dean had asked for it, and quickly used the other bags to prop up against Dean's back so he was half sitting. "Don't touch it Sammy," he ground out.

"What do I do?" Sam was clearly panicking, head turning sharply no doubt hoping to see their dad coming back from his half of the hunt.

Dean drew in a shallow breath trying desperately to clear his head, he was going to have to be the rational side here, and it wasn't going to be easy. "Sammy," he said waiting for his brother to look at him. "Cut the jeans," he instructed gesturing with his hand.

It took a moment for his words to sink in but Sammy finally reached into the kit, being careful of Dean's oozing blood as he cut open the ruined jeans. "Now what?"

"Holy water," he hissed, not sure what that would do to help, but it couldn't hurt.

How wrong he was, the first drops of the water sizzled on his skin, and Dean flinched away without thinking. But it was too late to stop, he watched as though in slow motion as Sammy tipped the bottle, and the water spilled over his leg. Dean saw the smoke rise from his leg, even as his lungs belted out another cry of pain. His entire body jerked against the fiery pain, his lungs burning for oxygen.

When finally the pain subsided, Dean's body went limp, as he gasped for shallow breaths, eyes pinned shut. "Dean," Sam's voice was desperate, and he managed to get one eye opened to see his little brother pressing a thick bandaged down on his thigh.

"Yeah…" he barely managed.

"Should it hurt that much?" his brother asked in a shaky voice.

"I don't know…" Dean half laughed through the pain. But sobered quickly when he suddenly realized that the pain was lessening, instinctively he knew that couldn't be a good sign. "Tie a tourniquet around it Sammy," he said through shallow breaths, there wasn't really much more that they could do until dad and Bobby got back.

Sam did as he was told, tying the bandaged tightly just as dad had shown them, Dean bit down on the groan. "Sorry," his brother apologized, "How's the pain?"

"Not as bad," he admitted more than willing to let Sammy assume the best from that comment. But the illusion he was trying to create was destroyed when an overwhelming wave of nausea swept over him. Dean just barely managed to roll to his side before the heaving started.

He could feel Sammy's hands on his back while he continued to retch nothing left in his stomach but bile. When he could finally lay back again gasping for breath—the throbbing pain intensifying in his entire leg now—Sammy was there holding a canteen of water to his lips. Dean took a few greedy mouthfuls before his brother pulled it away.

Dean reached up with a shaking hand to swipe it down his face, not surprised by how much sweat was coating his skin. Sam shifted on his knees closer to Dean's head, placing his left hand on his brother's forehead. "You're getting warm," he stated before Dean could pull away. "What did that thing do to you?" Sammy asked worriedly.

He offered his brother what he hoped was a cocky smirk, trying to ease his brother's fears, but he knew it had fallen flat. "I'll be alright…" Dean tired to assure, though he doubted it would do much good.

Dean wasn't going to panic his brother further but the cold was settling in to his extremities, whether from the bite, shock, or weather he couldn't tell. But none of those choices were good. Sammy quickly pulled off his coat and laid it across Dean's chest. "You should keep it on…" he tried weakly to push it back.

"I'll be fine, I've got to keep you warm until dad and Bobby get back," Sam replied in his sternest tone, and Dean had to bite down on a laugh at how close to dad Sammy sounded just there.

"I thought you said I was warm," Dean muttered trying to scan the tree line listening for any sign of their dad.

"I'm not laughing Dean," he sounded like he had more control but there was still worry deep in his voice; and his hand hadn't left Dean's chest.

Dean leaned his head back focusing on his breathing, fighting through the pain now making it way up his body. "Try the…radio," he suggested, no liking how weak his voice was sounding.

"All we're getting is static," Sam countered his concern coming more to the head.

"That's while…the…son of a bitch…was alive," Dean tired not to wince through the pain.

Finally Sammy's hand left Dean's chest as he moved to find their small radio. Dean let his eyes fall closed, exhaustion washing over him, in the back of his mind he knew he had to fight it. But it was like going to battle against the ocean, you couldn't win. He vaguely heard Sammy's calls for their dad and Bobby to get back here.

"Dean!" his name was barked sharply, and the young hunter snapped out of the darkness he hadn't even realized he'd slipped into.

It was an upwards fight to get his eyes to respond to him, and he heard another voice speak to him. "C'mon kiddo," the voice was rough to his ears but he immediately knew it was Bobby.

Blinking away the water from his eyes Dean looked up to see his dad on his right and Bobby on his left. "Sammy?" he asked though his voice was barely above a whisper, a small hand on his head gave him his answer. "How long?"

"Maybe ten minutes," John replied, placing two fingers against the side of Dean's neck.

"Salt…didn't…" he tried to say but Bobby over road him.

"We know," Bobby rested a firm hand on Dean's shoulder. "Who took the killing shot?" the older hunter asked, and Dean knew he was trying to distract him while John moved to take a look at the wound.

"Sammy," he coughed weakly.

His little brother appeared with that same canteen and brought it to his lips, again Dean wanted to gulp the water down, but it was Bobby this time who pulled it away, "Small sips," he warned.

"You poured holy water over the wound?" John asked, and Dean could see he had the bandage all but pulled off. It worried him more than a little that he hadn't felt a thing.

"Yes Sir," Sam responded looking unsure.

Dad nodded his head curtly, "Good boy, Bobby do you have the right supplies at your place?" he asked turning his attention to the mechanic.

"I should," Bobby nodded.

"Alright lets move," the tone was an order, Dean had heard it more times than one, the commanding officer down to his soldier. And it nearly made Dean want to snap to attention, if he could feel his legs.

As his dad retook his place at Dean's side, he looked up at his dad, "Doesn't hurt…anymore," he confessed.

"You're in shock Ace," John replied his tone as confident as Dean had ever heard it, as he was scooped up into his dad's arms.

Sammy jogged along beside his dad carrying both his and Dean's duffels without complaint unable to take his eyes of Dean's ashen face. The only color he could actually see was the flushing from the fever. Sam had been terrified when Dean had passed out, he'd done everything he could to wake his brother, but it had taken their dad's commanding voice to rouse Dean.

Both dad and Bobby had tried to reassure him that Dean would be fine, but until he saw it with his own eyes there was no stopping Sammy's worry. It didn't help now that Dean's head rocking limply against their dad's neck. From where he stood it didn't look like there was an ounce of life in him.

He felt tears spring into his eyes but desperately tried to hold them back. When they reached the Impala John ordered Sam into the back seat, and then carefully placed Dean beside him so his brother's head was cradled in his lap. Sammy leaned over his brother's face, his eyes looked sunken dark shadows had formed but in the darkness of the woods he hadn't noticed.

Dad returned with a thermal blanket, and made quick work of wrapping it tightly around Dean. "Try and keep him still," John said holding eye contact with Sammy for a couple of second. All he could do was nod in response.

Moment's later the Impala roared to life, and they left the state park grounds. Sammy rested a shaking hand on his brother's forehead, amazed at the heat that was radiating from him. "Dean?" he asked softly into his brother's ear, although he got no answer in response Sammy was relieved to feel the short warm breaths brush against his neck.

Sammy reached one of his warm hands under the blanket digging his way under his own coat and Dean's until his hand was resting over his brother's heart. The steady beat against his hand, was somewhat reassuring to Sam in the darkness.

"How's he doing?" dad asked glancing back in the rear view mirror.

"He's getting hotter," Sam relayed wishing his voice was stronger.

"That's normal," John assured, leaving Sam wondering how his dad could sound so calm. Though he'd been anything but when trying to wake Dean. "His body's trying to fight off the poison."

"Can he do it?" he couldn't help but ask but realized he hadn't spoken loud enough when John didn't answer. He wasn't even sure he'd have wanted to hear the answer, especially not if it had been bad news.

"I'm sorry Dean," Sammy breathed his head bowed over Dean's. "I should have done more research, I should have known the bite was poisonous." He paused drawing a shaking breath, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "Not that it would have helped," he forced himself to admit, "The salt circle was a failure."

It felt good to speak to Dean, he had no idea if his brother could even hear him, but he kept it up. "But I could have found something that would have worked! I should have!" he couldn't stop the tears from falling on Dean face. "Is this how it's always going to be? One of us walking away hurt?"

He knew it didn't happen all the time, but it felt like it did. "This doesn't feel right Dean; do you know what kids our age are doing?" Sammy already knew the answer to that, Dean wouldn't question their dad's order this was their life.

"C'mon Sammy," John's voice broke Sam's thoughts, and he looked up in surprise not even realizing they'd stopped or that his dad had got out of the Impala.

With dad's help Sammy slid out of the car, with Dean's head still resting on his laps, until John could slip his arm under Dean's neck. Sam shut the door behind him and raced ahead of his dad to hold open the door, Bobby's truck was already parked outside of the house.

Once inside he made his way to the room he and his brother shared whenever they stopped by, and pulled down the heavy blank, just as John came in the room Dean's body limp as he was laid out on the bed.

"Bobby?!" dad shouted out the door as he unbuckled Dean's jeans.

"I'm working on it!" was the gruff reply.

Sammy moved around to the other side of the double bed and climbed up beside his brother, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Go fill a bowl with cold water and get a washcloth," John instructed, having removed Dean's pants he moved onto his son's coat and shirt.

Sam leapt off the bed and ran from the room, relieved to be of help even if it was only a little. Entering the kitchen he saw Bobby, working quickly over the stove, adding herbs to boiling water, the smell made him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

"Bobby!" his dad shouted again.

"It's not like this comes in pill form," Bobby muttered sarcastically, as Sam grabbed a bowl and made his way to the bathroom.

When he returned to the small bedroom Dean was rather awkwardly covered with the blankets but with his right thigh exposed. The flesh around the punctures looked angry and red, and he could see puss leaking from some of them.

John's glanced at him, his two fingers once more pressed into Dean's neck, "Wash his face and neck with it," he instructed, taking the bowl away from Sammy so he could get back on the bed. "Then leave it on his forehead."

Sam did as he was told, brushing the cold cloth down Dean's hot skin, and he could have sworn his brother turned towards him ever so slightly. Dean looked even worse now that his skin was bathed in light. Sam tried to bite down on his anxiety not wanting to get in the way of his dad's work with too many questions.

Bobby came into the room with a steaming bowl in one hand and a clean white cloth in the other. Sam watched in silence as his dad took the cloth and lifted Dean's leg to slip part of it under. "What is that?" Sammy asked before he even realized the words had left his mouth, the smell was stronger now than it had been in the kitchen.

"It's a poultice," Bobby explained holding the bowl for his friend as John took a handful of the steaming mush and began spreading it directly on Dean's leg. "It'll draw out the poison."

It was doing something, Sam noticed as Dean let out a weak groan of pain. He turned his full attention back to his brother, taking the washcloth off his head and dunking it back in the cold water before replacing it. When he glanced back down dad had wrapped Dean's thigh with the rest of the cloth, and was pulling the blankets over his son's thigh.

"That's all we can do for now," Bobby commented, looking down at Dean.

"What?" Sammy gasped, "That's it? Should we take him to the hospital?" the question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

John was already shaking his head, "There's nothing more they could do for him Sam, except ask question we can't answer."

Bobby adjusted his ball cap, "Speaking of, I'd best go back and burn the corpses."

His dad just nodded pulling a chair up beside the bed. He took his seat, and immediately rested arms on knees letting his chin drop to his fists, hazel eyes staring intently at Dean's face. They sat in utter silence for a while, Sammy removing the cloth like clock work to rewet it. While John reached out with his left hand to check Dean's pulse; for his part Dean didn't make a sound just lay there looking worse than the last minute Sammy was sure.

"What if this doesn't work?" he asked voice hitching with the lump that was forming in his throat.

"He won't give up without a fight," was all his dad said.

--SPN--

Dean felt himself rousing from the cold darkness, feeling slowly returning to his body, and he was immediately made aware of the throbbing in his right thigh. His exhausted mind was too muddled to remember what had happened. All he knew right now was that he was warm and safe; the second part was assured by the familiar presence resting by his left side.

Dean tried to open his eyes, but a groan escaped him instead. On his second try he managed to crack his lips enough to let watery light filter in. He thought he recognized his surroundings despite the blurriness, it was Bobby's house. That small connection sent his mind reeling as the memories of their hunt resurfaced, leaving him well aware of the pain and why he felt so weak.

The longer he remained awake the more he could open his eyes and actually see the room. It took some effort to turn his head to the side, so he could see his little brother curled up beside him, long brown hair falling across his eyes casting shadows on his face.

"Sammy?" he said his brother's name, though it came out as more of a rasp, but it was enough.

Sammy's eyes fluttered open, and in less than a second he was sitting up one hand immediately going to rest on Dean's chest. "You're awake!" he exclaimed happily but thankfully managed to keep his voice down.

"Brilliant…grasp of…the obvious," he forced himself to say, though the dryness of his throat ended it in a cough.

Sam reached across him, hand going out of Dean's sight but when it returned he was holding a cup of water complete with a bendy straw. The first drops of the cold liquid felt like heaven to his throat, and he quickly sucked in more; only to be disappointed when Sammy pulled the cup away.

"Sips," his brother stressed.

"Kill joy," Dean muttered voice stronger now.

"How're you feeling?" Sammy asked bringing the straw back to Dean's mouth for a couple of seconds.

He considered the question for a minute, his entire body felt like lead, and he didn't want to think how much effort it would take to lift one of his arms. Then there was his leg, just throbbing now, but he didn't dare move it, "Perfect!" he replied.

"You look like hell," Sammy was quick to point out.

"I choose to take that as a compliment," he returned but his voice was lacking its usual sarcasm.

Sam's head dropped, hair shielding his eyes from view, Dean knew that look it was slowly becoming a staple of Sammy's existence. "I thought I was going to loose you," he said voice very small.

"But you didn't" Dean said pointedly.

Again there was silence, and his brother looked up expression like he was working himself up to something. "Is this how it's always going to be?"

"I hope not," Dean replied flippantly, "That bite hurt like a bitch."

"I'm being serious!" was Sam's retort.

Dean was forced to sigh, "You're my brother, I'm always going to step in front of you," he forced himself to say, not liking how mushy it sounded coming from his lips.

"That's not really what I meant…" Sammy trailed off, looking away.

"You're talking about the hunting," Dean concluded, it wasn't the first time Sam had brought the subject up. Unlike Dean he'd lost the awe and rush from the hunts almost immediately. He could learn what their dad taught them just as well as Dean, but he wasn't so eager to use it. Dean had caught Sammy staring wistfully at kids just playing in the park. Having never lived that life Dean hadn't expected Sammy to want it, how could you miss what you never knew.

"Why do we do it?" his brother asked not making eye contact, it was because he already knew Dean's answer.

"Because it's what dad asks us to do," it was just that simple for Dean, '_Protect your brother!_' and '_Don't argue with me._' Two simple rules Dean had no trouble following.

Sam licked his lips finally looking back at his brother, "Don't you ever want too…"

"About time you woke up," their dad's voice broke in, causing Sammy to immediately halt whatever he was going to ask.

John came to the side of the bed, dropping his hand down on Dean's forehead, "How're you feeling Ace?"

"Like I was poisoned," he answered honestly, knowing it was what his dad wanted to hear.

"You're on bed rest for the next couple of days," John said pulling up the blankets so he could expose Dean's thigh. He could just make out the white bandaged wrapping it, and thought he saw a few spots of red, where his blood had seeped through.

"What about the Vamps in Nebraska?" Dean asked immediately moving to try and push himself up on the bed.

John's hand pushed him back down with ease, "Bobby's called in a favor," he said bluntly returning his attention to Dean's leg.

As he'd expected the minute his dad moved the limb the pain intensified, he bit down on his lip to keep from making a noise, and turned his attention back to Sammy. But his little brother wasn't looking at him, he was staring down at his hands, and it felt like he had shut down somehow.

It took all the focus he had to reach out his left hand towards his brother, but the second his fingers brushed against Sammy's knee, the twelve year-old looked up. Dean offered him a smile, he didn't know what to do about Sam's opinions on hunting other than to try and reason with his brother. But Sammy was far from easy to reason with, he thought he had all the facts straight in his head, and most of the time he did. A virtual sponge Dean had called him on more than one occasion.

Sammy took his hand, and Dean held his brother's gaze until he saw Sam's expression lighten a little. It wasn't perfect but it was enough.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	27. Circus

**The First Time**

**AN**: Life's screwing with me again, but here's another chapter for you, another of the ones that I finish and hate…could simply be my mind set at the moment –which I don't trust- Or this chapter could honestly suck. In either case thanks for reading.

Dean – 12 Sammy – 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Circus**

"What if he comes home early?" Sammy worried following along side his older brother.

Dean gave him a dry look, "He said he wouldn't be back until late."

"That's what he always says," dad rarely said anything other than late, and although he'd never been home before the sun went down or the day actually ended Sam just knew if he came home early any time, it would be when they'd left the apartment.

"Stop worrying Sammy," Dean retorted, slapping Sam on the shoulder.

Narrowing his eyes Sammy continued watching for his second concern. The circus had come to the small town they'd been staying at for the past couple of weeks, and it had been Dean's suggestion that they sneak inside the grounds to check out what they had. As much as he would have preferred to just stay home, Sam's only option had been to agree, he wasn't about to give his brother more ground to tease him.

Sammy continued to follow his brother's lead through the circus grounds. He thought Dean had some kind of destination in mind, as he hardly looked twice at anything they passed. As they rounded another corner in the endless maze of games, rides and people, Sam looked up in amazement.

A huge tent had been constructed, yellow and red stripes racing across the outside. Sammy looked to his older brother, only to see a wide smile on Dean's face. "C'mon," Dean broke into a jog; Sam was quick to keep pace with him.

They ducked inside, and Sammy felt Dean take a firm grasp of his hand. At any other time he would have fought the gesture knowing in his own mind he was too old for this. But inside the tent, the crowds shifted and turned all around him making it difficult to move through. It didn't help that his eyes were still adjusting from the bright sunny day to the shadow of the tent. Sammy blinked several times stumbling to follow were Dean lead, and finally he found himself sitting on a bench.

"We made it just in time!" Dean said eagerly into Sammy's ear, it was the only way he could have heard his brother over the roars of the crowd.

Sammy was about to ask '_For what?_' when the lights in the tent went low and a single spotlight illuminated the center of a huge circle. It took a couple of minutes but finally the crowds quieted down, they knew something Sammy didn't.

A man in a suit walked into the circle of light, turning on the spot as he addressed the crowds. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" his voice sounded crystal clear despite the distance around the tent, "Boys and Girls! Welcome to the greatest show on Earth!"

Sammy jumped when the lights in the tent suddenly went out for what felt like only a second, but when they came back on there was a flurry of activity. Music played through speakers Sam couldn't even see, as men and women swung from high above his head, walking along thin likes of road like they were wide open streets. He could only gape in wonder for a moment before his attention was drawn back to the ground.

An elephant trumpeted as it entered the ring, a parade of animals following behind, some in ornate cages, others being lead or ridden around the outside of the ring. Sammy knew he was grinning like a fool, but it was all so bright and amazing. He just barely managed to tare his eyes away to cast a quick glance at his brother; Dean's smile was as big as his eyes wide. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one who could still be amazed.

The magic of the moment was shattered when Sammy turned back to see his nightmare had taken over the ring. Sam flinched at the sight of all those clowns, dancing and jumping around to the laughter of the crowd. But all Sammy could see was their faces, painted white like a ghost, their expressions slathered on with bright colors.

Suddenly they spread out away from the circle making their way towards the crowd, weird sounds accompanying their movements. Sam stiffened wanting to bolt from the tent, to get away from these creatures. He wanted to shut his eyes tight against the sight, but couldn't leave himself so open. Before he could think better of it Sammy was tugging at his brother's coat sleeve.

"I want to go," he said quietly, knowing it was too quiet for Dean to hear, Sam just couldn't bring himself to talk any louder.

Dean looked down at him a wide smile on his face, Sam wasn't sure what sort of expression he was sporting now, but he could bet it wasn't happy. But Dean just smiled all the wider, "What's the matter? They're just clowns."

Sammy felt his breath catch in his chest; they were nothing so simple to him. He couldn't remember what if anything made him feel so panicked at the sight of them, whatever it was it didn't bear remembering. "I want to go home!" his voice was louder this time more urgent as he felt a rush of heat across his face.

Brown eyes darted between his brother and the still approaching clowns; Sammy's heart was racing in his chest, he'd never seen so many in one place. His eyes searched Dean's face, still seeing that look of laughter there. Sammy wanted to take strength from Dean, but when he looked back the thing was standing right in front of him. His immediate reaction was jump back from its twisted face, right leg kicking out sharply.

Dean's arm was across his back before Sammy even realized it, his other hand going out to push the clown away. The youngest Winchester couldn't take his eyes off the creature's expression; it continued to smile at him, while at the same time frown, there was nothing natural or right about it!

"It's alright Sammy," Dean said shielding his brother with his body as he ushered Sammy from the tent. They left the music, lights and horrors behind them, as they stepped into the sunlight.

Sammy drew in a shaking breath, hardly aware that Dean was still holding his hand. "I hate clowns!" he muttered bitterly, glancing cautiously back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed.

"Clowns aren't so bad," Dean replied with a laugh that felt distinctly like it was directed at him.

"Says you," Sammy returned angrily, "It's like they want to eat me," he shuddered at the very thought.

Dean laughed again, and Sammy felt a stronger blush rush up his face. He knew his brother was going to have endless amounts of fun with this new information, but at the moment his laughter sounded far more relaxing than it did insulting, as they made their way from the park.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	28. Late

**The First Time**

**AN**: I added this chapter in at LadyKryptonite294's request. She wanted to see more Sammy looking after Dean. But to be totally honest I think I might have fallen short of expectations. I'm not as unhappy with this chapter as I was the last, but I just don't think I got enough Sammy looking after Dean. I may make more attempts in other chapters; I'll have to see what comes to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dean – 12 Sammy – 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Late**

Sammy held the phone tightly to his ear, listening to the seemingly endless rings, while across the small apartment he could hear Dean was still throwing up. It was early in the morning, neither of them had slept much, Sammy because of the clowns he'd seen the day before and Dean because of the flu or something. It was the or something that had Sammy reaching out to Pastor Jim for help.

He doubted it would even be a problem, if it weren't for the fact that their dad still wasn't home. Sam had gone to his dad's room first in the wee hours of the morning when he woke to the sound of Dean being sick, but there had been no sign of dad.

"Hello?" a familiar voice spoke into Sammy's ear, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Pastor Jim!" Sammy exclaimed in relief.

He thought he heard the old pastor chuckle, "Samuel what's wrong?"

"Dean sick, and dad hasn't come home yet, and I don't know what to do," Sammy rushed breathlessly.

"Alright Sammy," there was a very calming tone to the pastor's voice, "What's wrong with Dean?"

Sammy glanced back towards the bathroom, he couldn't hear Dean anymore, and he hoped it was a good sign. "He's been throwing up, a lot!"

"Does he have a fever?"

No sooner had the question left Jim's mouth, then Sammy was dropping the phone with a quick, "I'll check!" It was a short run to the room he shared with Dean. Pushing opened the door Sammy found his older brother curled up on his side under his comforter. "Dean?" he asked hesitantly coming to a stop in front of his brother.

"What is it Sammy?" Dean asked voice sounding tired and strained.

"I called Pastor Jim," he informed reaching out his hand to place it on his brother's face.

Dean sighed pulling away, "I told you, don't worry about it."

"But you're sick," Sammy tried to reason, "And dad's still not home yet."

"Tell him I ate something bad, okay?" his brother said raising his head off the pillow to fix Sammy with a firm look, "Just tell him that."

Sammy watched his brother roll over on the mattress, a low groan escaping him, before he returned to the hanging phone. "No fever," he informed feeling a little relief from that, "He says he ate something bad…"

Jim was silent for a moment, "If it's just a little food poisoning Dean should start to feel better later today," the pastor told him. "Make sure he drinks plenty of water or juice," Jim continued, and Sammy was nodding seriously with each word. "If he's not feeling better by this afternoon, and your dad still isn't home, call me again."

He felt a more reassured, having called Jim but he couldn't shake the worry deep inside him that dad still wasn't home. "Why isn't he home?" Sam asked voice low.

"I wish I had the answer for you Samuel," the pastor said honestly

"He's never been late before!"

The pastor's sigh sounding frustrated. "I'm sure your father is fine," Jim attempted to assure, "He's very good at what he does."

"Why does he do it?" Sam couldn't stop himself from asking.

"To protect the people he loves," Jim responded immediately.

Sammy's brow knitted together in thought, "But we're right here…" he said softly, "And Dean needs him!"

"I know my boy," he spoke gently, "But until he comes back, I want you to keep an eye on your brother. You won't forget what I said to you, right?"

Sammy nodded his head again, "I won't forget."

"Good boy," he could hear the smile in Jim's voice and it lifted Sammy's spirits a little. They made their goodbyes and Sam made a quick trip to the kitchen getting himself and Dean a drink before returning to his room.

His brother was exactly as Sammy had left him, and he walked around between the two beds so he could see Dean's face again. "Pastor Jim says you need to drink this," he told his brother holding out the cup of orange juice.

Dean cracked open one eye, and for a moment Sammy felt sure his brother was going to refuse. But Dean surprised him by pushing himself up a little so he could take the glass from Sammy's hand. He only took a small sip before placing it on night table between their beds.

Sam pushed himself up onto his own bed watching his brother closely, "Why hasn't dad come home yet?"

"I don't know;" Dean said flatly, "Don't worry so much."

Sammy looked down at his sock feet, "I can't help it…" he muttered, "You're sick…"

"I'll be okay Sammy," his brother said firmly forcing himself to sit up though it caused him to wince in pain.

"Are you in pain?" he asked despite the fact that it looked pretty clear on Dena's face.

Dean curled in on his side again; "I'm never eating again!" he fumed.

"But you love food," Sam replied sounding surprised.

"Ugh!" Dean shuddered, "Don't say the F-word again!"

He didn't know why, but he felt a little better sitting there with Dean, "Which word?" he asked a glint in his eyes, Dean had had more than his fair share of fun over the clowns once they'd made it back to the safety of the apartment. "Food?" Sammy smirked a little.

"Keep saying it and I'll throw up on you," Dean warned.

Sammy was about to say it again, when he heard the front door unlock, "Dean, Sammy?" dad's voice rang out through the home, and Sam breathed a sigh or relief. He rushed from the room before Dean could stop him. Dad was back, he'd make Dean better everything would be okay.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	29. Anniversary

**The First Time**

**AN**: So here's another chapter that when the idea hit me I'm left thinking 'Why haven't I written this before now?' Oh well again better late than never. I hope you enjoy this unexpected chapter.

Dean – 4 Sammy – 8 months

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Anniversary**

John had done everything he could to keep the entire day normal for his boys, in an effort to help himself forget. It hadn't worked out the way he'd planned; he couldn't look at either Dean or Sammy without thinking of Mary. He was just relieved that Dean was still too young to have realized the significance of the day so no questions were asked.

He'd put their boys to bed early, needing time alone. As much as he wanted to just forget, his mind couldn't let him pass up the anniversary of his marriage without taking some time for Mary.

And so he sat alone in the small living room, a bottle of rye sitting on the table in front of him, glass half empty in his hand. For a moment his mind conjured what they would have done. With the boys both so young, Sammy only eight months old, he doubted they would have shared a private dinner. It wouldn't have mattered; they'd have put the boys to bed early, so they could share the evening together.

-_Daddy…_-

She loved to dance with him, and as reluctant as he may have been in public it had never been a problem in their home. It was the simple things that drew them together, and it would have been enough for them to just hold each other close throughout the night…

"Daddy?" a young voice pulled John from his thoughts, and he looked down to see Dean small hands on his left forearm shaking it gently.

John opened his mouth to speak, but was forced to swallow back the lump that had formed in his throat. Nothing would make it leave except the numbing bitterness of his drink. "What is it buddy?" he asked reaching out a hand to rest on his son's head. He felt his throat tighten again; he could see so much of Mary in Dean's little face.

"Can't sleep…" Dean complained around a wide yawn.

Taking a moment to finish his drink, John put his glass aside and picked up his son. They weren't the same anymore, there was no more they, only John trying to raise his boys in the shadow of his loss.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	30. Speaking

**The First Time**

**AN**: I don't know why I'm having so much trouble finishing First-aid maybe it's the mood I'm in…Oh well here's another chapter that's jumping the line. I hope you enjoy.

Dean – 4 Sammy – 6 months

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural.

**Speaking**

John stood at the end of the hallway leaning against the wall as he looked into their small living room which was one of the only two Dean seemed to go these days. When he wasn't in his room either sleeping or just sitting staring at Sammy in his crib, Dean was sitting in the living room staring out the front windows.

Massaging his brow John wondered—not for the first time—what he should do for his son. Since the night of the fire, Dean hadn't said a word, he'd responded to John's questions but only with a nod or shake of his head. It worried John to see his high energy smiling son, reduced to this, to be trapped in the same one night cycle. Sometimes John could swear he'd seen that fire in Dean's otherwise dead eyes.

Dean was sitting exactly as John had left him a half hour ago, kneeling on the couch head resting on his arms as he stared out the front window. John knew Dean was waiting and searching for his mum to come home. He felt something tighten in his chest every time he saw his son like this; John was only looking at half of his child. They'd both lost so much in that fire. Sammy was a connecting point for them though, John couldn't count the number of times he'd awoke in the middle of the night sure he'd heard Sammy cry; only to find Dean curled up next to his baby brother free hand stroking the side of Sammy's head.

John couldn't help wondering who would speak first, Sammy or Dean; he hoped it would be Dean. The sound of Sammy fussing in his crib forced John to walk away, when he opened the door to the boys' room his youngest quieted a little. "Hey Sammy," John said picking up his son, offering his baby a smile.

With Sammy held against his chest, John walked out into the living room Dean hadn't moved an hair. "Dean?" it took a moment but his eldest did turn away from the window, "Can you hold Sammy?" he asked.

Dean nodded mutely sitting down on the sofa to accept his baby brother, for his part Sammy instantly began making happy noises as soon as he saw Dean. John thought he caught a hit of a smile touch Dean's lips.

"You hungry Ace?" John asked stepping towards the kitchen while keeping an eye on the pair.

Again Dean only nodded his head.

John quickly prepared a bottle of formula for Sammy and a sandwich for Dean, before stepping back out in the living room.

"Don't worry Sammy, angels are watching over us…"

John was stunned, not only to have heard his son speak, but to hear nearly the exact words Mary spoke to Dean each night. He didn't want to break the moment, but Dean was already looking up at him. "Are you thirsty?" he asked hopeful for a verbal response.

Dean shook his head.

He managed to repress his disappointed sigh, knowing all was not lost, if Dean could speak to his brother then one day he'd speak again to the world. John was willing to give his son all the time he needed.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	31. Firstaid

**The First Time**

**AN**: This took far longer to write than it should have, but for the last four days I haven't been able to focus at all, which is more than a little frustrating. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter, mostly because I got half way through it before the anti-focus set in, which always leaves me feeling like it's just not quite right. Still I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I apologize for the wait.

Dean – 10 Sammy – 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**First-aid**

Dean stared at his dad in surprise; he hadn't been expecting John to come home until later. That surprise quickly turned to fear, when Dean saw the blood on his dad's face. "What happened?" he asked jumping up from the floor the cards he'd been holding dropping out of his hand.

"S'alright," John began holding up his hand but that too was smeared with blood.

"Daddy!" Sammy exclaimed running over to their dad who had dropped down onto the nearest chair.

Dean stopped his little brother, before he got himself covered in dirt and blood. Sammy squirmed in Dean's arms in protest. He managed to turn his brother around, catching Sammy's attention. "Can you bring me the first-aid kit?" Sammy looked torn for several seconds before he finally nodded his head and dashed off.

Dad got to his feet suddenly and walked towards the kitchen, with a single mindedness Dean had witnessed before. "Dad?" he asked tentatively once John was sitting on one of the chairs a bottle of alcohol and a glass in front of him. "Are you okay?" Dean knew the answer to that question already, but needed to hear something more from his dad, than just '_S'alright._'

"Damn vamp caught me from behind," John answered after a long drink.

"Dean!" Sammy called as he rushed back into the room their slightly unusual first-aid box held tightly with both hands.

Relieving his brother of the burden Dean placed it on the table and opened it, while Sammy moved quickly around the table to stand beside his dad. "Daddy you're bleeding," Sammy said, one chubby finger pointing at their dad's head.

"It's okay Sammy," dad told his youngest.

Dean ran the tap filling a bowl with warm water so John could wash some of the dirt from his skin. Placing it in front of his dad, he caught John's subtle hand gesture towards his back, while he turned his attention back to Sammy.

"Does it hurt?" Sammy asked voice loaded with concern.

Dean didn't really pay much attention to what his dad said after, when his hazel eyes landed on the oozing gash across his dad's back. The folds of his ruined coat hid it well, and had acted as a pseudo scab until Dean pulled the ragged edges apart. This wasn't good, it wasn't the first time dad had come home injured after a hunt, but before now John had been able to patch himself up.

Looking up from the wound Dean noticed his brother wasn't in the room, "Where'd Sammy go?"

John drew in a shallow breath, pouring himself another drink, "I asked him to bring me a specific shirt, should keep him busy for a few minutes."

"Dad this isn't good," Dean began feeling a hint of panic settle into his gut.

"I know," John nodded fixing Dean with a reassuring look, "You're going to have to stitch it."

"What about the ER?" he threw back the panic growing stronger by the second.

John just shook his head, "Too many questions, you know what to do Ace."

The statement was true, in a sense. It blew Dean's mind to look back on all his dad had taught him in the last couple of years. There seemed to be no end to the amount of knowledge his dad had about everything. First-aid had been a major subject, John had used every opportune situation to teach another skill, often times using one of their own injuries so it wasn't just words in his ear, but something he could actually see. "You told me," Dean began wetting his lips nervously, "But I've never done it before."

The smirk on his dad's face did nothing to calm him, "First time for everything."

Dean felt paralyzed at the very idea, everything he needed was right here except the courage. Drawing in a calming breath Dean tried to conceal how nervous he was as he helped his dad get out of his coat. John's hand closed over Dean's right arm and he knew he wasn't hiding anything.

He knew he couldn't stall forever, dad needed to be stitched up, and Dean was the only one here to do it for him. He wondered briefly if his dad was refusing the emergency to force him into doing this.

Dean focused his attention on his dad's back once the shirt had been pulled over John's head. The gash was long reaching from near the top of his dad's shoulder down towards his spine; it was shallow at the top running deeper as it went. There was only about five inches of the actual cut that needed stitches to help it heal.

John repositioned himself on the chair just as Sammy came back into the room, "Found it daddy," he smiled triumphantly.

"Good job," John said taking the shirt from his son.

Dean saw the way Sammy's eyes went from him, to their dad, and back again. It didn't take a hyper aware mind to know something wasn't right, Dean could see the growing concern in his brother's eyes.

"What were you playing with Dean?" dad asked suddenly drawing Sammy's attention away from the supplies Dean was lining up on the edge of the table.

"Go Fish," Sammy replied distractedly.

"Go get the cards, and I'll teach you a new game," John instructed.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he saw excitement take over his little brother's eyes. The last thing he needed right now was to have Sammy getting in the way, trying to watch what Dean was doing. With Sammy safely occupied, Dean cleaned the gash with both antiseptic and holy water just to be sure.

Swallowing hard, Dean picked up the suturing kit and tore it open, there was nothing left for him to do. Grasping the curved needle tightly Dean licked his lips nervously, before finally getting up the nerve to begin. He'd watched his dad, had seen it done on TV but it always looked so easy, like the needle just slipped in without hesitation. That was far from the truth, he knew he probably wasn't putting near enough pressure on but he was finding it really hard to intentionally hurt his dad.

John glanced briefly over his shoulder, and Dean caught the movement through the corner of one eye. And that was enough to get him moving, he didn't want to disappoint his dad, by messing this up. Dean forced the needle through either side of the gash and pulled the first stitch closed before moving onto the next.

He knew it took him far longer to close the gash that it would have his father, and he seriously doubted dad's would have looked so sloppy. But it was done, the wound was closed, and Dean could secure a bandage over it.

Trial by fire, that's how they learned, or so dad said. He tired to give them the preparation they'd need, but there were just too many things you couldn't figure out until you're actually there. Dean's hands were shaking subtly and he clenched them shut in an effort to stop the tremors. As he cleaned up the mess he'd made, dad slipped the clean shirt Sammy had brought over his head.

As Dean was taking the first-aid kit from the room, dad caught his eye, and he glanced over just in time to see John looking at him. His dad offered Dean a smile, which said all Dean needed to hear. He'd done a good job, proven himself yet again, and dad was not at all surprised.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	32. Suspicion

**The First Time**

**AN**: After this chapter I only have two others listed, this makes my feet sad. I'm hoping for more ideas to hit me, and I'm really feeling like writing some major hurt/comfort, something that may be its own story...have to wait and see what happens with it. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dean – 13 Sammy – 9

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Suspicion**

"Dean, could I speak to you for a minute?" Mr. O'Dwyer asked.

Hesitating in the doorway Dean reluctantly turned back towards his teacher, as the rest of class filed out of the room. The school day was at an end, and Dean knew his dad was going to be picking up Sammy and himself; they had another hunt lined up and they were going to be leaving the state immediately.

"How're you liking the school?" his teacher asked when the door swung shut behind the last student.

Dean shrugged without much interest, "It's alright." They'd only been in the town for about a month, three weeks of that in the school system.

O'Dwyer smirked, "I didn't expect you to love it."

This wasn't why Dean had been held back, he looked directly at the teacher knowing it was the bruises on his face that had O'Dwyer concerned. They'd happened on a hunt, a few days before, Dean knew they'd be trouble. Until now, all his injuries had been relatively easy to conceal, hidden under layers of clothes. He'd raised a few eyebrows over the years; Dean hadn't missed the way teachers would glance at him when they thought he wasn't looking.

But no one had asked, until now. After a few seconds of awkward silence O'Dwyer came out with it, "How'd you hurt your face?"

He'd always been wary of moments like this, he had to give the teacher something or else raise further suspicion. It had to be the right balance though, enough to satisfy but not enough for the teacher to start asking around for confirmation. He had to play it cool, like he didn't have a thing to hide.

Dean touched his face forcing a smirk, "Pickup game of baseball, it was the kid pitching," he said easily shrugging his shoulders.

"No batter's helmet?" O'Dwyer asked surprised.

Dean shook his head, "Nope, just glovers, a ball and one bat."

"Looks like it hit you pretty hard," his teacher commented blue eyes still tracing over the bruise.

"Yeah, but I got to take my base," Dean returned with another smile, though it hurt his face to do so.

O'Dwyer nodded his head, though he still looked concerned about the whole situation. The young hunter was saved from having to defect further when the door to the classroom opened, "Dean?" his dad called before stepping into the room, "Is there a problem?" John's attention immediately went to the teacher.

"Mr. Winchester," O'Dwyer said extending his hand, "I'm Allen O'Dwyer, Dean's teacher."

Dean watched his dad carefully as he accepted the other man's hand "Is there a problem?" John asked again.

"I was just asking Dean how his face got bruised," O'Dwyer answered.

Dad nodded his head, glancing down at Dean, "Game of baseball," he confirmed without missing a beat. "Would have had a concussion if he didn't have a head of concrete," Dean stepped closer to his dad, letting John drop a hand on his shoulder.

Mr. O'Dwyer smiled, "I'm glad to hear you were there."

Dean thought about it for a minute, silently comparing the two stories. Dad had been there alright, watching Dean like a hawk for any signs that the blow had given him a concussion. He'd been relieved that John hadn't felt the need to wake him every hour during the rest of the night. There really was no comparing an evening game of baseball, to the midnight factory they'd actually been in.

"C'mon Dean, Sammy's waiting," John's voice snapped Dean back to the classroom and he nodded shifting his backpack higher on his shoulder.

"Have a good weekend Dean," Mr. O'Dwyer said as Dean finally left the room.

"You did good Ace," John said quietly as they made their way down the halls.

Dean shook his head, "Should have been more careful, Sammy likes it here," the school was basically wall his brother ever wanted to talk about.

"We're not jumping ship yet," dad told him, pushing opened the main doors to the school, "We've got work to do."

"Yes sir," Dean nodded seeing Sammy waiting for them in the Impala, a bright smile on his face as soon as he saw Dean.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	33. Alcohol

**The First Time**

**AN**: I realize that at this time 1979, Gripe Water was still made with actual alcohol, so there wouldn't really be a need for this fic, but after starting the story 5 different times and not being able to finish it, please ignore that fact. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for your patience.

Dean – 4 months

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Alcohol**

John stepped through the door wincing when he was greeted by the sound of his first born screaming. Dean had just started teething; it was a painful hurdle for all of them. Closing the door behind him John only felt a little guilt at being able to leave the house for most of the day.

"Mary?" he called an instant before she appeared, coming down the stairs.

"I'm so glad you're home," her smile was a tired one, but it still managed to light up her eyes as she reached out to drape her arms around his neck.

John took his wife around the waist hugging her close, "Has he been like this all day?"

Mary sighed relaxing into his arms her left hand trailing through his hair before she claimed a kiss. "More or less," she smiled again, though it looked a little pained.

They remained in each others arms for a minute longer before Dean's cries pulled Mary away. "I don't see much sleep tonight," she said over her shoulder as she made her way back to Dean's room.

"I'll be up in a minute," John called after her walking towards the kitchen. One of the men at work offered a suggestion that he'd used on his own children, and right now John was sure Mary would be willing to try anything.

Less than a minute later John was walking up the stairs two at a time, he saw Mary in the nursery pacing across the room in an attempt to sooth Dean. His wife turned to look at him when John crossed the threshold eyes scanning for Dean's pacifier.

"John?" Mary raised a questioning eyebrow when John lifted the pacifier from the crib and dipped it into his shot glass. John winked at her bringing the dripping pacifier to Dean's lips. "You're going to get him drunk," she laughed when Dean's cries stopped as he sucked enthusiastically on his soother.

"Let's just hope he's a sleepy drunk."

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	34. Honesty

**The First Time**

**AN**: This chapter was also going to give me a lot of trouble, but with a friend's help I was able to work it out. Not 100 percent sure what I think of this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it!

Dean – 11 Sammy – 7

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Honesty**

"Dean," Sam's voice broke the silence in the apartment, "What day is it?"

The older Winchester cast a brief glance at his brother before returning his attention to the TV, "November 2."

"I know that," Sam said with an exaggerated sigh getting up from his position by the coffee table.

"Then why'd you ask?" he returned dryly.

Sam came and sat down on the couch effectively blocking Dean's view of the TV, "You and dad are different today…" his expression was serious as he studied his brother.

For his part Dean was trying to see around Sam, "Dad's out making money what's different about that?" He didn't want to get into it, knew the years of avoiding the subject were coming to a close; Sam was too sharp he picked up on the tiniest things.

"You're both sad today," the youngest Winchester pressed, "Why?"

Dean ran through all the answers he'd given his little bother over the years, when Sammy had wondered why dad would drink so much, why there was such tension in the air. It had been easy enough to placate his brother back then, but 'why?' had become his brother's favorite question.

Sam was waiting patiently for his answer, and Dean wondered if the time had come for him to give an honest answer. Drawing in a breath, Dean locked eyes with Sam, "Mum died today," he stated flatly.

There was several long minutes of silence as Sam continued to watch him, "Oh," he finally said, getting up from the couch so he could go back to his homework.

Dean felt his chest tighten at Sam's reaction, and wondered briefly what it must have been like to hear that piece of information but not really have a concept for the loss it left. Dean didn't think for a second that Sam was in any way lucky; he'd have given anything for Sammy to have just one memory of their mother. Even if it meant some tears.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	35. Flawed

**The First Time**

**AN**: I think we're finally coming to the end of this series. I've really enjoyed writing these short glimpses into the boys lives, and I'm so glad that a lot of you have been enjoying them! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dean – 18 Sammy – 14

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Flawed**

"Don't you argue with me!" John roared suddenly.

Dean bit down on a sigh, this wasn't the first time discussion on a hunt had turned into an all out battle of wills between Sam and their dad. It felt like it had happened overnight suddenly Sammy was no longer enamored with the idea of hunting, and was increasingly voicing his thoughts on the subject. Dean knew he should have seen it coming; short conversations with Sam over the last couple of years should have been a dead giveaway that Sammy was becoming disillusioned by it all.

Sam stood toe to toe with John, a feat most grown men wouldn't dream of doing, "I just need to finish this report!"

"You need to do as you're told," John returned immediately, "Now get your stuff!"

Dean had already gathered his things—a worn backpack hanging over his shoulder—only minutes before the argument had broken out.

"Why do I have to go?" Sam demanded, "You and Dean can handle it on your own!"

"Because I said so!" their dad was all but literally fuming, as he took hold of Sammy's shoulders. "I'm sick of this attitude," John gave his son a rough shake before shoving him towards the two bedrooms, "Get rid of it!"

Dean saw the hurt flash across Sammy's eyes, and he wished there was something he could offer that would help ease the situation. Sam's expression closed down as he stepped away from their dad, Dean reached out a hand but his brother sidestepped it disappearing into their room.

John pulled hand down his face, before retrieving his duffel from the floor and walked over to the front door, "Be out in five."

"Yes Sir," Dean responded immediately, willing to over looked the flaws in his family if it meant keeping Sammy safe and making his dad proud.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	36. Snow

**The First Time**

**AN**: So here we are, finally coming to the end of this story. I hesitate to say that because I never know what ideas will hit me. But I think I've covered just about everything I can for this series, and it's time to bring it to a close.

I want to thank all of you for your wonderful support! These stories have given me several ideas for some other oneshots which I'll play around with. I can't thank you enough! I think fluff is the best answer to that. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

Dean – 7 Sammy – 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Snow**

Dean bounced excitedly by the back door of Pastor Jim's house, as he watched the older man help Sammy into his winter gear. They'd been staying that the pastor's home for the last couple of days, dad was gone but had promised to by back by Christmas. As impatient as Dean was to see his dad again, he'd awoken to a wonderful surprise that morning.

Sammy looked at him with bright wide eyes, "There you go Sammy," Jim said with a warm smile as he pulled a warm hat onto Sammy's head.

"Are you ready?" Dean asked his little brother, reaching out a mitten covered hand.

Jim slowly stood, and stepped over to the door, "Stay near the house boys," he warned opening the door for them.

"We will," Dean assured seriously, before heading out side with Sammy hot on his heels.

"Wow…" Sammy said breathlessly, looking out over the winter wonderland.

Dean felt just as amazed, it was their first time seeing snow, at least this much of it. Dean had never seen more than the lightest layering of the white stuff, and Sammy wouldn't even have memories of that. Together they rushed out onto the pristine lawn easily falling into the soft powder. Large flakes continued to fall from the grey sky above.

Sammy laughed as he tried to walk through the deep drifts of snow, falling continually onto his hands and knees. Dean moved to help his little brother back to his feet, before they both fell back onto the blanket of snow laughing. Picking up a handful Dean squished it in his hand, and found that his became a tight ball sticking to parts of his mittens.

"What to build a snowman?" Dean asked his little brother, already sitting up to gather more snow for his ball.

"Frosty!" Sam replied excitedly, clearly remembering the movie Jim had showed them last night as he gather snow to make his own ball.

Dean couldn't wait for dad to come home and see what they'd made.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


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